JUST kriskibbee

FRENCHIES
TULLYS BULLY TAILS
Kris Kibbee
(Castle Rock, WA)
is a Pacic Northwest
native with a love of
language and dogs. While
attending Washington
State University she
studied in the Professional
Writing program and was
a contributing writer to
The Vancougar. An avid
animal welfare advocate
and experienced dog
trainer, Kris has a
contagious affection for
French bulldogs and
shares her home with two
of the mischievous
mongrels. She will be
writing about the
Tails of Tully!

Kris Kibbee
twofrenchies@hotmail.com
THE CLAW GAME
Prologue
Some of you may fnd the following account diffcult to believe but I assure you it
is based upon true events. If after reading it you still remain a skeptic, I ask you to
pause, take a hard look at your own audacious little scamp and ask yourself . . . is it
really so far-fetched after all?
Preface
My husband Sean was once an avid bowler. Though his zest for the hobby has
left him in recent years, his friendship with several of his bowling companions
endures. One fellow in particular, a lanky, soft-spoken man named Beau has stayed
an integral part of Seans inner circle and the two get together often. Beau actually
co-owns a local bowling alley and Sean has spent many a lazy afternoon there
watching baseball on the big-screen and eating his weight in greasy nachos. Most
recently we both found ourselves at the alley while meeting up with Beau and his
wife for a pre-planned camping trip. Perhaps bringing Tully and Boo along wasnt
the wisest of my plans.
The Tail
Id never been inside the bowling alley after hours. Most of the lights were
switched off and a place that was once familiar to me became suddenly
laced with dark shadows and eerie stillness. Beaus wife Casey was waiting
near the front desk and greeted me with a warm smile and outstretched
arms. Hey girl! You ready to have some fun? I forced a grin and looked
over my shoulder at the door through which Id just entered. Oh, yeah.
Just worried about the boys. Caseys forehead rutted and her smile
drooped. Why?
I was still staring through the glass sliding doors and into the parking lot
beyond. I could see two sets of bat ears skimming the dashboard of my car,
aimed like satellite dishes at my last recorded location. Oh, its just hot
outside and I know how hard it is to drag Sean out of here once hes inside.
Gonna get toasty in that car. Caseys sweet smile returned, spreading
across her face like jam. Sheesh, just bring em in! she chimed. You
sure? I bit my lip. Sure!
In no time wed retrieved the boys from my car and
they were racing through the bowling alley like they
owned the place. Casey had a cavalier air, dismissing
their animated sniffs and turning her attention instead
towards a mound of camping gear that was piled near
the exit. Meanwhile, I shadowed Tully and Boo while
holding my breath and worrying they might suddenly
forget that they were potty trained.
Oh jeez, Kris, dont stress so much, Casey teased as
I tracked Tullys tense encounter with a stand-alone
M&M dispenser. Were on vacation! She chuckled to
herself and shook her head, then adding besides, they
couldnt do any worse than the ratty kids who come
in here and trash the place every day of the week! I
silently nodded, letting her frivolity infect me. Tully
nosed the base of the M&M machine and then jerked
back as it rattled. I laughed out loud. Yeah, I guess
youre right, I admitted. Thats more like it. Casey
was glowing now, once again her happy self. Now get
over here and help me!
I made a feeting glance at Tully, whod joined Boo in
sniffng a bank of lockers teeming with stinky bowling
shoes, and marched towards Casey, assuring her Id
brought my guns! and was ready to lug some bags.
Fifteen minutes later, the bags were crammed in
our respective rigs so tightly that I feared Id have
to shimmy in through the moon roof. The guys had
unceremoniously vanished into the bowels of the
bowling alley upon our arrival but now appeared,
looking suspiciously innocent. Where are all the
bags? Sean asked, peering at the empty spot of maroon
carpet where a mountain of nylon had once laid. Um,
we packed em all, I said, wiping my brow. All of
em? Casey huffed a little, as if struggling for breath,
and stepped up beside me. Yup, all of em, she
echoed while shooting a snarl at her husband.
Both guys dipped their heads and studied the carpet.
It was notably quiet for a few moments before Beau
chimed well, guess wed better hit the road, while
still not looking at his wife. OK. Ive just got to round
up the boys, I announced. I panned the lobby, feeling
my heart rate double as I found it Frenchie-free. Seans
tone was immediately tense. What do you mean?
Arent they in the car? No, it was too hot. I brought
them in. I set off at a brisk yet restrained walk, not
wanting to appear overly alarmed, and began winding
my way along the path Id last seen the boys on. Casey
said it was OK, I barked back before calling out
Tuuuullllyyyy! Boooo!!! Come boys! Afaint growl
peeled from behind me as Sean traced my footsteps.
TULLY! BOO! he erupted a little too near my ear.
In seconds Boo materialized from the shadows of
the walkway that ran above the bowling lanes like a
miniature specter. He regarded me with wide eyes,
turned on a dime and then vanished from whence hed
come. Boo! Boo! Get back here! Virtually blind in the
pitch, I picked up my pace and followed the white little
blob of my younger son through the dim lights, with
Sean hot on my heels. Boo was like a frefy in the night,
just bright enough to lead our way. When he suddenly
came to a standstill, I lurched to a stop behind him and
Sean nearly plowed into my hind-side. Ouch!
Sorry. Sean snaked around me and made his way
towards Boo. You had me worried little guy, he
crooned. He reached out to pick Boo up but Boo darted
sideways and then stood on his back legs, as if he were
begging for a treat.
What Boo? What is it? I pressed, watching the odd
exchange. Boo gave me another look with his wide,
alert eyes and then glanced in front of him. I followed
his line of sight to a large, rectangular object that
wed come to rest in front of. Even in the blackness
its refective surface told me it was a glass enclosure
and based upon my familiarity with the layout of the
bowling alley, I knew it was some type of arcade game.
What Boo? What? I asked, looking from Boo to the
game, trying to get my bearings in the dark.
Awhiff of ozone pumped through the alley as light
fooded the space. Caseys voice boomed over the
loudspeaker, teasing and then there was light! as she
waved from the front desk, where shed switched on
the main bank of lights. Boo was now clear as day, still
standing like a miniature, furry human on his back two
legs and staring squarely at the game. I mimicked him
just as Sean did and we let out a mutual gasp of awe
as our eyes came to rest on Tully, who was shoulders
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Just Frenchies LLC Publication
Volume 12 Number 1 Spring 2014
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Kris Kibbee
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deep in stuffed animals inside The
Claw Game. Somehow hed managed
to shimmy up the shoot that delivered
the toys with a mind to retrieve one for
himself. Though a bright yellow chicken
now dangled from his mouth, hed
clearly found it as diffcult to get the toy
outside the game as most of its players
had.
Oh my gosh! Tully!!
Its diffcult to get in touch with a game
vendor on Sunday. It took thirty minutes
of phone tag and an hour of drive time
but after the turn of one very elusive
key, Tully was free of The Claw Game.
Throughout the entire ordeal, he never
once dropped his damn chicken.
JUST kriskibbee
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