Posted by admin | Posted in Dog Care Tips | Posted on 05-06-2010
Tags: bookmark, bookmarklet, dog jobs nj, dogs, flickr, photography
The first dog in My House
The first dog in My House
Do not mistake me, I like dogs. There was always a dog in the house when I was growing up. There was also a cat, but when I came along, mother thought it would be unsafe to have the cat around a baby and so gave the cat to one of the nurses my baby. I always found it strange that she never spoke of Fluffy. Do you love Fluffy? What could be given?
Our house in Connecticut closed during the Second World War when I was 5 and went to live in New York. Dad's job in the Army in World War II meant that they had to report to duty in Newark, New Jersey every day, but the mother refused to live in New Jersey. She said there was "decent" place to live in Newark, social life would be zero and cons of going to buy anything would be too. So we moved to an apartment in the Hotel Barclay and dad commuted to Manhattan to Newark. It was very different from living in a big house with a huge patio, but I liked the apartment. That meant he could be around people without much effort and made me you feel warmer at the bottom inside of me.
I decided I was going to make friends with Sandy, the average age cocker spaniel that had not really taken to me at all. I do not understand why there was Sandy has given too, like the cat. When I asked Mom, she looked at me strangely. "Well, Fluffy had claws that could have really hurt. Also, cats like to lick all sorts of things and I did not want Fluffy to lame with dirty language. "
A couple of nights later, mom and dad went to a cocktail and Catalina, the babysitter was giving my younger brother made its dinner. I was in the living room when they were watching Sandy who was brown and all kinds of melted into the carpet. I would have been much more interesting for him to have other bits of color in it. Sometimes, when I took a walk, I saw dogs and cats who were dressed in fancy collars and sometimes, sweaters and jackets. But Sandy never had any special clothing. I thought that was unfair. I should have at least one suit. I also felt a little sorry for him because Dad said, "is being old "in a sad voice. I assumed that" getting old "was not a good thing.
I was about a foot away from your dinner plate and looked at me as if he could not decide whether to eat or not. So I decided this would be a good time to try to make friends with him. Never seemed to like it when I tried to pet him. Maybe he was jealous of me because I noticed so much when I was adopted and it was not the greatest attraction.
I thought the way to start was to ask some questions. And the first thing to talk about was his dinner.
He sat watching. So I bent down and tried to ask him if he wanted his dinner now or not. I started to push the cup to his nose and then pulled back and forth trying to reach me if he was hungry or not. Of course, it is understood that I was trying to be nice to him. And I wanted to be his friend.
After about five of my "questions", Sandy gave me his answer. He rushed towards me and grabbed my left hand in his mouth and bit hard, causing my hand bleeding. I decided I was never going to be my friend and I took her hand.
Now he had another problem. As I walked through the living room crying in silence and suck the blood of the painful sting in my hand, I knew I could not let Catherine know what had happened. She definitely was not my friend. She had always made clear by constantly ignored and cackling at my brother, Ted. I had to keep this type of injury on demand or I was going to be a big problem with her and the mother.
I saw one of my dad's handkerchiefs that had been on a small table and wrapped tightly around of my hand. Then I went into the bedroom of my parents and went to bed trying not to think about the pain in my hand. Being there made me so far from Catherine possible, since it Ted was giving a dinner in our room on the other side of the house. After a while, I returned to the room, which is one of my books, climbed on the couch and spread the book in my lap. I put my hand under the book wound to stabilize (and hide the handkerchief) and then turned pages with the other hand.
It was the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. I was disappointed when the bears were being expelled from their beds by Goldilocks. But in my life, the bear in my life, Sandy was pulling me his room, the living room. In real life, I thought, people are supposed to be in control of things, especially dogs. But it certainly was not in control of Sandy. Everything seemed be reversed.
But now, the most important thing was to stay out of sight of Catherine. I managed to do that until Mom and Dad came home. As it was too late, Ted, Catherine and said hello to Mom and Dad in the living room. I kept my left hand behind my back.
Catherine said my mother, "They were as good as gold."
Mom looked at me. "What about the hand, Patty?"
"Nothing."
Mother turned to Catherine. "What happened?"
Catherine looked at the mother. "Well, ma'am Marvin, I do not know that anything happened. "
Mother stepped on, I pulled my hand back and saw the bloody handkerchief.
His eyes drilled into me. "What happened?"
"Sandy bit me."
"Catalina, get wound and then went on to come talk to me. Sola. "
Catherine turned white as a sheet. He bathed my hand and put a bandage on the place where I would two small scars thereafter. Stepping out of the bathroom, she went to talk to the mother without giving me a look or a word.
I entered the room.
Dad immediately pulled me into his arms. "Now tell me what this is all about."
I told him, weeping, that I wanted to make friends Sandy and Kate liked Ted and not me and that I had no one to talk to and I did not like being alone, if he had friends like Sandy, I would not feel so alone much of the time.
I cradled in his arms and told me he was sorry that I was alone. He promised that he would spend more time with me and would ensure that his mother was not angry with me for what happened. His eyes were misty, but their embrace made me feel much better. I jumped out of his lap and asked if he would put the radio that I could listen to some music. Nothing more was upside down.
And to make things even better, Catalina does not work for us from day next.
About the Author
I was adopted as an infant into a rich CT family. I adored my father and couldn't understand my mother. I had an adopted brother and a nanny I didn't like. This wartime story has a happy ending.
I published my memoir "Surviving High Society" last year
Elizabeth Marvin Mulholland
Worlds Crappiest Job
 |
| No items matching your keywords were found. |
