I met these two young boys years ago, they’re hopefully college grads by now but when I met them there was chain link fencing around a tot lot that was being re-done and a lot of rebar sticking up and I yelled at them and said I’d call the cops if they didn’t get out of there because they could hurt themselves.
A few years later I caught a dog in the park and put my dog’s collar on him to take him home. The woman was on meth and yelled at me and told me never to touch her dog.
A few weeks later the boys left her place with a Razr, new at the time. I called them over to my yard and told them if I ever saw them talking to her I’d tell their mother, as I knew where they lived.
Years later, they asked me what kind of puppy to get. I went inside and got them my AKC breed book and tasked them to do some research. A couple of months later after they brought Sparky, a Jack Russell, home the first place they came was my place, to introduce me and return my book.
Here’s the kicker. I was out in the Park stretching one morning in my Tevas, which I don’t wear anymore, and they challenged this then 40 year-old to do a cartwheel, which I did. Then as I resumed stretching the dew on the grass kicked in and I did an involuntary split. They left. I walked home without saying a word and holed up for two weeks with ice packs due to my first ever (hopefully only, I just knocked wood) groin pull. How many ways can you spell misery?
A couple of years later my dear dog fell out the door and I had a tile guy lift this 89 lb wonder into my Jeep. We went to the hospital and they said she’d bled out. They gave her anaesthesia but she stood up five times begging not to leave me and I couldn’t leave her or have a button to call a tech or vet. She died in my arms.
The next day I had to go out to the Park to see all her friends and tell them what had happened. En route home I saw J & J and called the younger one in (the older one was becoming an irate teen) behind some bushes. He asked where my dog was and I told him she was gone. He asked me to tell him exactly what happened. I did. He cried and I told him to tell his brother and friends that I yelled at him for something.
So, if any man comes up to me and says he has a groin injury, I’ll make him chicken soup and be sure he has enough ice packs to get through it. L made me write this, thought you would enjoy my humiliation and pain. Thanks! And thank you for reading and writing in. Dee
Cooking with Dee 