Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“I knew she had some. I didn’t know she had eleven.”
My mother paused again, then said, “She told me I could only come live with her on one condition. She told me I couldn’t bring Peaches.”
“So, why didn’t you leave him with Dad?”
“Because your father would take him straight to the pound!”
“Ok, so why are you telling me this?” Then understanding dawned on me, and I said, “Wait a minute, you can’t possibly think that I—”
“Please Charlie? Please take Peaches. I know you’ll take care of him. I love him so much. I just can’t let him be put down!” She looked up at me with huge eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“That dog hates me, Ma. You know that. He wouldn’t be happy here.”
“There’s no one else I can turn to, Charlie!”
“What about Uncle Al? He has a house with a yard. The dog would be much happier there.”
“Your father’s brother is an asshole,” my mother informed me. It was the first time I’d ever heard her swear. “He’d put Peaches down faster than you could say euthanasia. Please Charlie? Won’t you do this for me?”
I wanted to say no. God I wanted to. But I just couldn’t do that to her. I knew exactly what that dog meant to her, and I couldn’t let him be put down. So after a long few moments, during which I desperately tried and failed to come up with another solution – any other solution – I sighed and said, “Fine.”
Dante’s eyes went wide behind my mother, and he stared at me like I’d completely lost my mind, shaking his head no almost frantically. “I knew I could count on you, Charlie,” she said with a big smile. “Well, I better get downstairs, I don’t want to miss that shuttle.” My mother bustled to the front door, giving me instructions as she went. “Don’t forget to give Peaches his special dog food. There’s a bag of his things here by the door. And make sure you change his water twice a day, he only likes it fresh.”
Peaches followed us to the front door, wagging his stumpy tail happily. Then my mother burst into tears again. But instead of hugging me, she dropped to her knees and hugged the dog. “Goodbye, Peaches. Mama loves you. Your brother Charlie’s gonna take good care of you, baby. Mama’s so sorry.”
This went on for a few minutes, and finally she put the dog down and picked up her old pink suitcase. She said, “I’ll write to you from Dayton, Charlie. You take care of yourself. It was a pleasure meeting you, Dante.” She opened the door and stepped out into the hall, then remembered something and said, “Oh, just so you know, Peaches has a bit of diarrhea. I don’t know why. Should clear up in a day or two, I’d imagine.” And with those parting words, my mother turned and walked away.
I closed the door behind her, and turned to Dante and pointed an accusing finger. “You just had to give Peaches the buns. And now look! Talk about karma!”
The dog was staring at the closed front door dejectedly, his tail and ears drooping. My heart went out to the little guy, who’d just lost his owner and looked so small and pathetic. I went to pet him, console him a bit.
And Peaches whirled on me, his underbite revealed as he bared his teeth and growled.
“No!” I said that so sharply that Peaches was startled enough to actually stop growling. “What are you complaining about?” I asked him. “You got more of a heartfelt goodbye than I did. You should feel lucky.”
His response to that was to raise his hackles and bare his teeth again, a high-pitched growl coming from his throat.
“Fuck my life,” I said, scrubbing my hands over my face.
“That’s it. I’m taking that little fucker to the pound,” Dante told me as he went to grab the dog. It almost took a chunk out of his hand, and Dante swore vividly as he jumped back and exclaimed, “The little bastard tried to bite me!”
“Of course he did. You tried to pick him up.”
Dante pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling animal control. And telling them to bring a dart gun.”
I sighed and said, “It’s fine. Let him stay.” I went to the kitchen and poured myself another cup of coffee, the dog following, growling and snapping at my heels the whole way.
“Are you nuts? You can’t let that hellhound terrorize you in your own home!”
“It’s just temporary, until I figure out what to do with him.”
“I already know what to do with him. It’s called the pound!”
“I’m such a sucker,” I said with a sigh, talking a little loudly over the constant growl of the smelly canine at my feet. “Probably the only reason my mother even came here and made amends was so I’d take Peaches in.” The dog tried to lunge for my leg, but I got my sneaker up in time and pivoted around, shielding myself. “And I know she’s not leaving my father because he kicked me out. She’s leaving him because they have a miserable relationship, and is using this as an excuse to do what she’s probably wanted to do for years.”