One summer my folks decided it was time to paint the house, and we all had a share of the work. Zander wanted to be in the middle of everything, but when we were doing the inside we had to keep him out so he wouldn't trip us up. He didn't like this much because all the rest of us were on the inside and he wanted to play.
We pretty much had the whole place done except the kitchen, which was white but was now getting the trimming painted blue, kind of a sky color, and that would be the last of the job. My dad was up on the ladder getting the top of the window trim over the kitchen sink when we heard a big ruccous outside. It was Zander barking at the mailman, who was bringing a package up the walk. You'd think that package was full of dog food, the way Zander was carrying on!
My mother opened the door and took the package, wondering what it was and who it was from. To tell you the truth I can't even remember now, but the reason we was all wondering is because it wasn't Christmas, and no one's birthday. Well, since my mom was distracted, Zander slipped right in past her legs without her even knowing. Zander commenced to start running all over the house with me and my brother chasing him everywhere so we could get him back out. My mom started yelling at us to get him, but of course we were already at it as best we could, and believe me, that dog was fast!
Well, I guess Zander though it was all a big game, and he was having a lot of fun winning it! We couldn't get a grip on him to save our lives. My mom was following us yelling, forgetting all about the package in her hands, when just then Zander cut back on us and ran right across the top of Mom's feet. She let out a shriek like to pierce your ears and sprawled straight forward, with that package flying out of her grasp. She hit the floor just in time to look up and see my brother catch that package in mid air, and I don't know who was more surprised, me and my mom, or my brother!
We all just kinda froze there for a moment at how that all had happened, slick as you please, when suddenly there was the sound of a big crash in the kitchen and my dad cussing like I never heard him before. Before we could say or do anything, Zander came shooting out of the kitchen like an arrow with whiskers, except for one thing...dang if he weren't the nicest shade of sky blue!
It seems Zander had run in there and smacked right into the bottom of the ladder my dad was up there painting from, knocking the whole thing down, Dad and all, with the whole can of paint dumping right onto Zander himself!
My mom turned beet red, yelling at Zander for all she was worth, because not only was Zander leaving the nicest, neatest blue footprints all over the wood floor that you ever did see, he was also running off with the very last of that blue paint! Well, one good thing was that we could tell exactly where Zander went, just by following them blue footprints! When all was said and done, I think he had left them prints in just about every room of the house, and right up the stairs too. When we finally caught up to him, he was standing there in my bedroom panting and smiling just like he had been having the most fun ever and expected us to come right up and start petting him, all except that while he was standing there he was painting my door blue with his wagging tail, just like it was a big paint brush.
Zander was in trouble, I can tell you. My mom wouldn't let him in the house for a week after that, except once when he sneaked in again when my mom went to hang out the laundry. But my mom couldn't say too much really, because it was her that had let him get in in the first place, and she knew it.
My dad had to finish the kitchen trim the next day after he got another can of paint, and then the house was done. Old Zander stayed kinda blue for a while, til the paint we couldn't get off him finally wore off by itself, but we had to cut some of his fur short to get a lot of it. Good thing it was summer! He got to be known as the Blue Dog in those parts for a little while, so I guess he was kinda famous you might say.
My mom never did quite get all the blue footprints off the floor, and you could still see a few of them faintly for a while if you looked right. My dad ended up thinking the whole thing was funny later on, and decided to leave the footprints on the stairs, so my brother and me got to show 'em to our friends and we had fun with that. If that house was still standing, those footprints on the stairs would probably still be there.
Well, Zander was a good dog and didn't get into that kinda trouble very often, but I tell you what, I loved that dog no matter what he did.
