Monday, December 12, 2011

My encounter with Mitt Romney's dog

I'd forgot all about this till recent news stories kick-started the memory bank.

It was '83. Me and the Missus of the time were camping at The Pinery, just outside Grand Bend, in my '79 Dodge Funcraft camper van.

We were in Grand Bend picking up supplies. Stopped at Chuck's Sonoco for a fill-up and a couple of bags of ice. The Funcraft had a fridge, but it was always a good plan to have some ice along for back-up.

So there we are topping up the tank at Chuck's, and there's this Irish setter romping around, had about eight shits in Chuck's lot just while we're filling up. Man, that pup really had to go I remember thinking to myself.

I've always been partial to Irish Setters. The first ex had one. Doofuss I think his name was. They're a bit hyper, but a hell of a loving animal. Loved Doofuss more than I loved the ex.

The dog is roaming the lot and I'm giving him a rub-up when he comes around. The family's in the store, I guess using the facilities and stocking up on ice and snacks. I hop in the Funcraft, turn the key, and nothing happens. Damn, I've been having trouble with the electricals; I'm gonna need a boost.

I lift the hood with this Setter sniffing my butt, and then the owner and his family show up. Had no idea who Mitt Romney was at the time, probably because he wasn't anybody at the time. I say, nice dog, dude, any chance you can give me a boost here? Think my battery's dead.

Gotta say this about Mitt. Didn't know me from a corporation, but he swung his big old wagon round and lifted the hood. I hooked up the jumper cables I always keep with me, and the big Dodge fired up in no time.

I offered him a ten-spot for his help, which he declined. Hey, maybe you can help me get Seamus back in the crate, he says. That's the dog. He's got the dog-crate strapped to the roof of the car. Seamus wasn't too keen, but between the two of us, me and Mitt were able to hoist him up there.

As we parted ways I said to him, dude, not telling you what to do. I see you've got Massachusetts tags, so maybe you play it different down there, but up here, when we're tight for space, it's the kids that we strap to the roof.

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