Saturday, June 23, 2012

Never buy Your Parent's a Dog

While cleaning out my hobby room for the 5th time this year, I found a journal from 2004.  Once I found this tidbit of the past, my work was done.  I began reading entries and reliving moments.  Things I have not thought about in ages, are speaking loud and  clear to me now.

It was October 13, 2004.  I had gone to Kentucky to see Mama and Daddy.  Mama was still home at that time. I would usually come home on my days off and take 3 extra days of my sick time. I did this once a month. That would give me 5 days to be with Mama and to rest Daddy.  He had his hands full with Mama.

The last 3 or 4 times I came home, Daddy mentioned that he wished he had a little house dog. He thought he would enjoy that.  I really thought it would be a mistake, however I am wrong quite often so I began my search for a dog for Daddy.

Donnie Fowler, one of my best friends from work, told me I was wasting my time trying to get a dog for an elderly couple.  He said they needed to pick out their own dog.  I was certain I could find a good reliable dog.  Donnie was right!

The dog needed to be small, housebroken, friendly and like to travel.  Daddy wanted to take the dog with him when he went for rides in the country.

I ended up at the Humane Society alias the dog pound. Here is where I met Millie.  She was the ugliest dog there.  She had an appaloosa rear end combined with a rat terrier body and head. She was 8 years old, had the croup or kennel cough, was slightly deaf and did not like kids.  She had the same personality as Daddy!!!  I figured it was a match made in heaven.

The woman in charge told me all about Millie's life.  She had lost the people who belonged to her in a car accident.  She desperately needed to be loved again. I was all but sobbing after hearing this tragic story.  The woman assured me the cough would clear up as soon as she was out of the kennel environment.  I walked Millie on a leash. She did fine.  She was really growing on me.  Her eyes were beautiful and sad at the same time.  I wanted Millie for Daddy and I wanted Daddy to like Millie.

After the paper work was done, the lady told me I could bring her back if it didn't work out in Kentucky. She loved Millie too.  OK, now I had more than a plan ---- I had a dog for Daddy, an exit plan for me just in case I was wrong and things did not work out as I envisioned.

As soon as Sunday rolled around, I drove to Kentucky with my new traveling companion.  I thoroughly enjoyed the trip with Millie. Since she was slightly deaf, she didn't care how loud the music was played.  We stopped often so she could walk and potty. She was a delight on the trip.

The closer we drove to Kentucky, the more anxious I became. I had no clue how Daddy would react when we got there. I never knew that from one trip to the next.  Only this time I was throwing a dog in the mix.  Well one thing was sure, I would find out sooner rather than later.  We had just hit the city limits of Clinton.  I said a little prayer, "Please let Daddy like this dog".  Apparently God was very busy that day, because when we got out of the car at Mama's home, Daddy came out and said, "What the hell is that???"  Your dog Millie, I replied.  Daddy says and I quote, " That's not a dog----that's a hairy rat!!!  I want a Rottweiler!!!"  And it went downhill from there!!

We all entered the house, exchange hugs, kisses and small talk.  About that time Mama sees the dog and thinks it is a little cat. A cute little cat!  Then Millie coughs---a long drawn out cough she must have been saving for 3 days. Her whole body shakes, rattles and rolls. Daddy yells "Cover your mouth Betty, there is no telling what that dog has!!"  And Mama does. It was a scene right out of the old t.v. series, "The Twilight Zone". Not one person was acting even remotely sane at that time.

I had been awake for 16 hours and was a little loopy. Mama had Alzheimer's, Daddy and Millie were just being themselves.  There we were for the next 5 days.

I tried to get Daddy to take Millie for a ride in his truck. He informed me that he didn't want anyone to see him with such a mutt.  

Mama's memory was fading fast but she remembered to cover her mouth every time she saw Millie.  Poor Mama sat around most of the time curled up in her rocking chair with her hand over her mouth.--afraid of the coughing cat!!  When I am wrong--I am really, really wrong.

Millie and I left in a few days. Daddy gave me strict instructions not to bring another dog home.  I didn't.  Mama kissed and hugged me and whispered in my ear, "I like your cat".  I told her I was glad she liked Millie. We had almost made it out of the house when Millie had another coughing spell!  All I could do was grab her and run to the car. As soon as I was behind the wheel, I took a xanax, a slug of water and headed for Missouri.  Breathing easy for the first time in 5 days.

That is the last time I will ever buy a dog for anyone except myself. I returned Millie to the shelter. The owner was glad to have her back. 

I went to work and listened to a week's worth of "I told you so's" finally things returned to normal. Unfortunately at my house, "Normal is just a setting on the dryer."

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