We live in the desert, big yards, neighbors not very close,
where everyone has at least 2 big watchdogs.
My dogs began to grow old, and I
eventually lost one of
my big girls, named "Praire Girl", leaving behind her
offspring, "Pandora".
I wanted to wait until old Pandora went to doggy heaven,
(as all good dogs do), before we started replacing them
with new puppies, new dogs.
My wife and my 18 year old daughter Madison, heartless
women both of them, not feeling the connection to these
members of our family, our protectors for years, having
no compassion, no loyalty, and not capable of returning the
love that the two old girls (the dogs) gave to them, the
womenfolk insisted on bringing home puppies.
After Praire Girl died, 4 puppies have been brought
into our lives. One puppy remains. along with my dog,
Pandora, who is the real victim in this story.
As each puppy was brought home, (the women not caring
whether or not Pandora would be able to handle a puppy,
being as she is old and a bit cranky, and not up to the
ear biting and wrestling that goes on with puppies), just
about the time Pandora began to accept the puppy, perhaps
a couple of months, the puppy would die.
And although it is true that two of the puppies died as
a direct result of me running over them with my truck,
(accidentally I swear!!) and the other died from parvo, the
women in my home blamed me for the loss of their puppies,
not caring that it was Pandora, the old girl, who was loosing
friend after friend, having her old heart broken time and
time again.
Pandora was forming attachments, grudgingly, with these
little puppies, and having them snatched from her life was
a painful thing for her...she told me as much. You could see
it in the tears that would roll from her big brown soulful eyes.
After the loss of each puppy, I would listen, lying in bed
late at night, to the moaning and crying of my Pandora,
howling at the injustice of it all. I cried along with her,
silently, in my bed, laying next to this monster of a
woman who could not, would not, back down. I swear I
would hear her snickering in her at night, as she slept
thru all of the barking.
But, of course, it was me that ended up in the
DOGHOUSE, along with Pandora. The women blaming me
for the "racket" that my dog was creating, completely
ignoring the night long barking and bleating and whining
and whimpering and crying that the puppies threw at us
till daybreak, each and every night.
The fights my women and I got into trying to make them
understand how they were tearing the family apart,
and breaking Pandora's heart, and mine, were legendary
on my street.
Did they even try to understand the reality? Did they
try to be sympathetic to me or my dog? To the deeper
meaning of what was happening here? Of course not.
They are women, and they banded together and closed
their minds and their ears to the truth, and tossed me to
the wolves, (so to speak). and into the DOGHOUSE.
All I heard, over and over, "you killed our puppies"!
"You ran over our dogs"!
While this is indeed true, you must understand that
these puppies did not know how to get out of the way
of the big truck I drive. The women took them for rides
in the truck, thus reducing their fear of it, and so instead
of moving away from the truck as I pulled in, they ran
towards it, repeatedly finding a wheel to run up under.
There is one puppy left now, along with Pandora,
my old girl dog. They are beginning to get along now.
The puppy has stopped raiding her dinner bowl, has stopped
biting the old girls ears, stopped barking madly at the big
girl when she is just trying to catch a little nap someplace
in the yard. But, the little guy has learned to sneak up
on my old girl and sneak in a few quick humps and pumps
on the old girls backside, before Pandora can get her old
body turned around and remind the pup that he's too
young for her, and she isn't in the mood, and hasn't been
for about 45 (dog) years now!
I have not allowed myself to become attached to this
puppy as I did the others. I recently put new tires on
my truck and I dot want them to be the reason, again,
that I find myself sleeping with Pandora in her DOGHOUSE!
The women? I can see them in the windows of the house
every time I pull into my driveway. It's as if they are
waiting, watching, (hoping?) to see if I aim for the puppy.
My women are heartless and calculating. It is no longer
a puppy thing. In fact, I honestly believe they would
sacrifice this puppy to the wheels of my truck, so they
would have a reason to attack me, call me a DOG, and
blame me for using immoral and sinful methods for keeping
puppies out of our home.
What they don't understand is, that along with my
Pandora, my good ol girl dog, I do allow two other
dogs in my home.
My wife and my daughter!
I am not a puppy killer. The death of the dogs by truck
were accidents, I swear to Anubis, the Egyptian god dog.
Still, it is I that sleeps in the doghouse.
Go figure!
Thank you so much Russell!
I've enjoyed your story!
