There are millions of animal lovers the world over.
Among them are often two distinct groups; cat lovers and dog lovers.
This is my dad.
He is definitely among the dog lovers.
In fact, here’s how I would describe the situation with him.
IT’S ALWAYS DOGS FOR MY DAD
Some people never learn.
Take my father, for instance.
For someone as educated and intelligent as he is, I’d expect him to know better by now.
Yet Dad’s past experiences have taught him nothing when it comes to pets.
He still prefers dogs to cats.
Suggest, “Ah, Dad, get a life, get a cat,” and you’ll see the veins stand up on his neck. The mere thought of a cat causes his blood to surge. And it’s always been that way.
I remember as a child seeing some cute cuddly kittens in a box outside the grocery store when I was shopping with my mother. A sign on the box said, “Free kittens,” so, I politely asked, “Mom, can we take one?”
Seemed innocent enough to me, but Mom gasped like she had something stuck in her throat and she couldn’t breathe.
“Eeeek…..NO!” she wheezed. “Your father HATES cats! He’d probably drown the poor little thing if we brought it home.”
Fearing for the tiny kitty’s life, I quickly set it back down in the box, and never ever (not even once) asked for a kitten again. My mother had planted visions of my father, the cat murderer, in my head, and I wasn’t about to furnish him with unsuspecting little victims.
We moved on - to the world of dogs.
And what a world it was.
Somehow every dog my father has ever owned has had “a fungus.”
We’ve had Chows with a fungus, Poodles with a fungus, Labrador Retrievers with a fungus.
If it was our dog, it had a fungus.
Once we took our “fungused” Labrador Retriever with us when we moved across country and stopped at a motel that did not allow dogs in the rooms.
They had a kennel out back.
But before we could get the dog out there, she raced into our room and took a HUGE dump on the carpet.
My brainy brother picked up the mess with a wad of paper towels from the car.
He flushed the whole thing down the toilet only to stop up the plumbing so bad my mother had to call the manager who promptly sent someone to help us.
Dad stuffed the dog in a closet seconds before two maintenance men arrived to remove the largest piece of dog excrement in motel history from our bathroom toilet.
I can still recall the way those men eyeballed us that night.
We all knew they were sizing up the whole family, wondering which one of us was responsible for that giant clump buried in soggy paper towels.
I wanted to blurt out, “It wasn’t me!”
But, all I said later to Dad was, “This never would have happened with a cat.”
A few years ago my parents owned not one dog, but three.
One day they shipped the ferocious trio off to doggie boarding school to learn a few manners.
That didn’t last long.
All three dogs were immediately sent home when one of them bit the teacher.
Again…something that never would have happened with a cat.
So, it’s like I said.
Some people never learn.
Take my own father, for instance.
It’s always been, and it always will be, “dogs” for my dad.
********************
Happy Father’s Day, Dad! Are you sure I can’t send you a cat?
Love,
Suzanne
Tags:father’s day– Writing– freelance writing– writing seminar— Writing Workshop
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