Dog Days

The other day, Steve and I briefly entertained the idea of finding Higgins a new home. We love him; we do. It's just that he sheds a lot, and he leaves his toys all over the place, and for every three pieces of food he eats, he drops at least one on the floor. So, for just a moment, we played "what if" regarding Higgins and his future.

After our conversation that resulted in no action whatsoever being taken toward the removal of Higgins, I started thinking. And remembering. And pretty soon, my trip down Memory Lane brought me to Nature Lane, where I spent the better part of my childhood years. We moved in right before I started kindergarten, and we couldn't have known at the time that we'd moved in next door to the woman who later became known to neighborhood kids near and far as simply The Dog Lady.

At the time, we were the proud family of Riley, a black lab. While my memory doesn't serve me perfectly, I'd like to say he was a happy dog who enjoyed life on Nature Lane. That is until the police started showing up. I'll bet you can guess who called them. That's right. It was The Dog Lady. You see, TDL, though she had young children and pups of her own, was mean and crabby and nasty, and she believed it was her duty to call the police when Riley barked too much. Truth be told, I don't remember if the police finally gave my parents an ultimatum, or if they made the decision on their own to say goodbye to Riley to spare our family anymore run-ins with TDL. What I do remember is going with my mom to say goodbye to Riley. I remember standing in a building that - in my mind - was big, white, and sterile. I was putting on Chapstick (my first vivid memory of using Chapstick ... not important to this story, but important nonetheless), and someone - a worker? a doctor? - took Riley away. I started to cry a little and my mom asked what was wrong. I told her I didn't want Riley to go away. Now that I'm older and wiser, I think there is a strong possibility that Riley went to Dog Heaven that day (Mom, correct me if I'm wrong), and that was the last we saw of him. All because of TDL.

As you can imagine, TDL quickly became the talk of the bus stop, and the neighborhood kids totally had my back; they gladly joined in on any bashing of TDL that occured over the years. Until we moved from Nature Lane when I was sixteen, every kid knew that to mention our next door neighbor by any name other than TDL (who, as it turns out, did have a real name) was purely an abomination. TDL will certainly go down in Nature Lane lore as one of the meanest, cruelest neighbors in history. If I recall correctly - and I'm sure I do - I don't think TDL even handed out Halloween candy. The nerve.

Eventually, the other day, I did get back to thinking about Higgins. I decided that the part of me that believes it's un-American to dislike hot dogs and baseball is the same part of me that believes that homes with children also need dogs. So for now, anyway, Higgins is going to stay. I couldn't live with myself if I thought, even for a moment, that TDL was somewhere watching me through her crystal ball, tapping together her bony green fingers, and cackling while I gave away my beloved mutt.