Published Sunday, October 21, 2012
The Little Black Dress and I have discussed the possibility before.
After three SONS of Thunder, well, sometimes you hope for something a little softer, with ribbons; something not quite as loud. Not that we don’t love our completely boy SONS, but a feminine touch is always welcome.
Now I have done my part. Despite working all day, helping out with grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, laundry and a myriad of other tasks, I try to fulfill my spousal duties. Sometimes I just wish I was wooed a little more. I am not a microwave.
But despite our best efforts, God has decided to give us men. But at the LBD’s request, I continue with grim determination and keep trying.
A week or so ago, The Dress was out of town. And she sent me a message saying she wanted to share something with me.
Okay, let’s share. At least it wasn’t the dreaded “we need to talk.”
So she sent me a photo - not the best quality, but we all know they never are.
And I take in a big gulp of air. And my eyes kind of get bigger.
“And this is?” I ask.
“This is a she,” The Dress responded. And then she sent another photo with a very, very big smile on her face.
And I’m thinking I’m 50 years old. I get tired just watching the SONS run around. And The Dress is ... um, 29, so she’s fine in that regard but this means a couple of the SONS will probably have to double up and there is no way “she” is going to be able wear the SONS’ clothes, which means we are looking at entirely new wardrobes and ...
“I thought we had agreed the next dog we got would be a big dog,” I finally blurt out.
“But she’s so cute,” is the response. “She’s adorable.”
And with those words, you know I’ve lost this battle. “She” was in Tulsa, where the LBD’s dad had his veterinary practice for 50 years. Her brother is now running it and someone dropped “she” off, abandoned.
She, currently called “Scout,” is white and all of four pounds. This one, combined with The Dog Who Thinks She Can Fly, aka Miss Roxie Love, brings our total dog poundage to still under a whopping 10. No, I did not come up with Miss Roxie’s name.
And Scout is a puppy, which means someone gets to do the whole potty training/go outside program to keep the carpets somewhat their original color.
So before I give my totally unnecessary approval, I go through my litany of “won’ts.” As in, won’t clean up after her; won’t walk her; won’t this; won’t that. Yeah.
Fast forward. The Dress gets home and we kill the fatted calf and celebrate the return of the maternal section of the clan in true style. And the debate commences on how we shall “acclimate” the newest intrusion with the existing queen bee, namely, The Dog Who Thinks She Can Fly.
My suggestion is to simply put them in the same room and let the fur fly; rather, let them say hi to each other.
The Dress is adamant we take Scout up to the top of hill and bring up the Flying Dog and introduce them on so-called neutral territory. And I stupidly ask why we should do that, and The Dress responds that is the best way, based on several books she read, various google searches and don’t I remember she’s the daughter of a veterinarian.
“You read books?” I asked. Now, I did not imply I questioned the LBD’s reading ability, simply that she actually read books on the proper way to introduce two dogs with a combined weight of under 10 pounds. I mean, we are not talking bears here.
Okay, so maybe we should have just followed the LBD’s advice. Because Miss Roxie gives a bark, looks at both of us with that sad “why have you abandoned me, I thought you loved me” kind of look and went and jumped on the sofa to get as far away from Scout as possible. And to this day, I don’t think she’s actually looked at Scout. She literally turns her head away as if by not looking at her, then Scout doesn’t exist.
As of now, Roxie Love continues to sleep with Middle SON; Scout now beds with Youngest SON. And Eldest SON and I look at each other and agree the next creature will be a very large, manly dog, even though The Dress points out the newest additional is sort of a manly name.
We just have to hurry before The Dress finds something else “adorable.”
John A. Winters is a staff writer for The Newnan Times-Herald. His personal blog is at justflipthedog.com . You can reach him at firstname.lastname@example.org .