The Misadventures of Tall Guy and Short Gal: The Dog
Posted: Wednesday, January 05, 2011
by Dianne Lehmann
Artisan Jewelry from SyZyGy
This should begin as most things do … at the beginning. But that is not our way today or any day for that matter as you, dear Reader, may have learned by now. Today, we shall begin in the middle because that is where we always begin and where the most fun may be had. Except, of course, if you are at the end of a "crack-the-whip" game. Then the end is most certainly more exciting than either the beginning or the middle. A little more dangerous too.
On any given Friday, we will find Tall Guy at work, slaving away for a master who is fair in most ways but unyielding in others. In this way his job is not all that unusual. Also, on any given Friday, we will find Short Gal out and about because she is currently not working for a wage. She will be running errands, picking up this and that, and most importantly (at least in the mind of Tall Guy) doing the grocery shopping for the week.
For the most part, when Tall Guy and Short Gal are together they get into very little trouble. They make a good team, though there have been a few times when two heads were decidedly not better than one. When they were just new to each other and a repair to Tall Guy's treasured Chevy II became necessary, it did not help at all that they both had laboriously considered the situation. Tall Guy had purchased ramps thinking that they were preferable to jacks and jack stands. As far as that went, that was a fine idea. That the ramps onto which Tall Guy was about to drive his Chevy II might need to be wedged into place before attempting this feat of precision maneuvering did not occur to either of them. They were young and still new in the ways of simple physics. Luckily, Tall Guy did posses a jack as it became necessary to use one in order to remove the car from where the body rested, all at an odd angle, on a single one of the ramps, the other ramp having been shot like a bullet into the back wall of his father's garage.
We tell you all this so that you know that not only can Short Gal get into trouble by herself, she can also do it when accompanied by Tall Guy. But without the mediating influence of Tall Guy, she is more likely to find herself in a predicament of one sort or another than not. It is not without a certain amount of nervousness that Tall Guy bids Short Gal a good day as he departs for work on the days he knows she will be leaving the house. Not that she can not get into trouble at home, but she is considerably more likely to do so when out and about.
This Friday began as most do with Tall Guy rising before Short Gal and fixing his own breakfast. Shortly, Short Gal arises, feeds their cat (Winnebago, mostly so named for her size) and then fixes and eats her own breakfast. Before Tall Guy may leave for work a certain ritual must be performed. There are boo-boos and some aches and pains peculiar to aging to be kissed all around and good-byes and well wishes to be said.
As Tall Guy gathers his homemade lunch and other work related supplies, Short Gal says, "Drive carefully and have a nice day. Be happy and don't fall off of any horses." That last little bit is an inside joke between the two of them and we would explain it except that it is not really germane at this point and would make this telling much longer than it need be. And much as we like a good story, shorter is better. Keep in mind though, that we did not say short is better.
Tall Guy replies as he always does, "You be safe and drive carefully too. Don't fall off of any horses and stay out of trouble." That last bit is said with a look of pleading on his face, which in truth looks more like the expression someone suffering from an excess of intestinal gas might make. But over the years, Short Gal has learned how to interpret even his most arcane expressions.
Short Gal says, "Okay. Love you." The "okay" is said with a great deal of chipperness and ascension. The "love you" is said with a huge smile that completely takes up her entire face. Her mouth is stretched wide and her dimples show themselves. Her eyes crinkle up so small that they seem to disappear. It is just one of the little things that Tall Guy adores about Short Gal. Short Gal thinks it makes her look "piggish," but it has never bothered Tall Guy one bit.
Tall Guy says, "Love you too." And then he is out the door, into his car and on his way to earn the money that lets Short Gal have all sorts of fun. There have been many times in the past when Short Gal was the sole wage earner, so this situation does not rankle in the mind of Tall Guy. It is simply the ways things are at this time.
In a little while, Short Gal has performed all her morning housewifely duties and has prepared herself for a day out and about. She has eaten a quick and simple lunch (Short Gal does not have the fascination with food that Tall Guy does). She has her lists in order and an itinerary outlined that will make the best use of her traveling time and gasoline. We are sure that you are wondering when the dog mentioned in the title will come into play. We are sorry to say that it might be a while longer.
When Tall Guy and Short Gal were first dating, they spent many long hours talking into the dead of the night, or the birth of the new day if you prefer. They touched on many subjects; some more important than others. So when a mere month and a half after they met, Short Gal proposed marriage to Tall Guy, they had already covered the question of whether or not they wanted to create some new human beings. They both agreed that "no" was the best answer to that question for a whole host of excellent reasons.
Most psychologists will agree that pets, when kept by the older person, are a substitute for children. Even if the older person has had children and now has grandchildren, the desire for companionship and someone you may dote on and who will love you unconditionally can become intense at times. Short Gal's mother, when she was finally convinced that no grandchildren would be forthcoming, went out and got herself three surrogate grandkids: one Budgerigar (Peepers), one Cockatiel (Topper), and one Lhasa Apso (Li'l Bit), in that order but not all at once. This was not too unusual because the family had always had a fascination with animals. It took a lot of pressure off of Short Gal … but not all of it, sadly.
Tall Guy has never really understood Short Gal's love of animals. It can safely be said, however, that they are not surrogate children for Short Gal. He will admit that many of them are cute and cuddly. But he has very little need to have them in his life. Even so, they have had many pets over the years; hamsters, mice caught in the basement, birds and now cats. Or rather one cat at the moment. Winnebago's brother, Grizzly, had to be put down due to acute kidney failure and now finally, this brings us to The Dog.
Or maybe not quite yet. Short Gal has never found herself doing the one thing her mother warned her she would eventually do: regret never having had children. Short Gal always suspected it was just sour grapes on the part of her mother. So it is safe to say that the feeling that overcame Short Gal while out and about on this particular Friday was not one of longing for a surrogate child. We can not say for certain what compelled Short Gal to do what she did, but did it she did.
The last two things on her itinerary are always a stop at the pet supply store that is next door to the warehouse store where she does most of her shopping. Short Gal has crunched the numbers on numerous occasions and has no doubt that even with paying a yearly fee to be a member, it is still more economical to shop for groceries there than in a regular supermarket. On this fateful Friday, we find Short Gal (having parked midway between the two stores to maximize efficiency and save on the expenditure of gasoline) heading for her next to the last stop; the pet supply store. As she is walking to the store, she notices a number of pavilions set up on the far side of the pet store's parking lot. There are large numbers of people milling about and all sorts of dogs on leashes, in little corrals, and under the pavilions. Dogs.
Short Gal was raised with dogs (you will note we did not say "by" dogs). When she was a young child, the family always had at least one dog. The first dog she knew was named Zigeunerin. She was a black Cocker Spaniel and she was a great Nanny. Short Gal learned to walk by pulling herself up on Ziggy and then hanging on as the dog took off. So there is always a special place in Short Gal's heart for dogs and every now and then that space feels like it needs filling up. Unfortunately for Tall Guy, this was one of those days.
Short Gal was doing her best to ignore the dogs all over the parking lot and dutifully entered the store, wanting to quickly make her purchases and leave the influence of all those canines. As she was walking along her eyes kept darting left and right. She would steadfastly bring them once again to front and center and concentrated on looking at her feet. But upon entering, she found to her dismay that there were also dogs inside and one of them was a Beagle mix tending more toward the Beagle end of things. Right there. Right inside the entrance. Oh my. It stopped her dead in her tracks. Her hands came up in front of her chest and started clutching at each other all of their own volition. Had anyone been looking at her eyes at that very moment, they would have probably seen them glaze over momentarily. Short Gal was brought back to reality by the necessity of taking a breath and she realized she had better move right on by.
As she was walking past the dog, (Beagles are one of her favorite breeds) her left hand was hanging down and there came a slight bend in her knees and before she knew it she was petting the dog. Oh this couldn't be good. Then the dog's handler started talking to her. Not knowing what to do, Short Gal asked a few questions about the dog and the other one with him. As it turned out, they were brothers and it was mentioned that they had another brother out in the parking lot. Neither of the dogs looked very much alike and the most beaglish of the three was the smallest. Finally Short Gal extricated herself from the oh-so-happy-to-help handler and selected her purchases. When it was time to pay, she found herself once again in the presence of the little beaglish dog and his brother. She gathered up her inner strength and made payment and took her purchases to her Jeep. Locking the supplies inside, she fully intended to head straight away for the warehouse store, but instead found her feet taking her back to the pet store and her right hand pulling her phone out of her purse. Then her left hand got involved in turning on the phone and calling Tall Guy at his place of employment.
"Thank you for calling the optical department. This is Henrietta. Are you calling to make an appointment with the doctor?" said the voice on the other end of the connection.
"Hi Henrietta. This is Short Gal. Is my husband busy?"
"Oh. Hi. No he's right here doing nothing as usual. Hold on. Why do you always make me say that whole thing before telling me it's you?"
"Because you say it so well and so sweetly. Thanks."
Then comes Tall Guy's voice, "Hi Sweetie. Everything okay? Where are you? Are you all right?" His concern is huge in his voice because he knows she should be out and about by now and their cell phones are for emergencies only. Short Gal knew that he would be worried when she called but that minor concern never quite made it past the influence of all those dogs.
"I'm fine," is said with a bit of a questioning note that does nothing to allay Tall Guy's anxiety. The pause at the end of that short sentence actually heightens it a bit. But then Short Gal says in a more normal tone of voice, "I'm at the pet store. Well actually, I'm walking across the parking lot to the pet store. I've just put the cat food in the Jeep and am now heading back there." For some reason or other, on the few occasions when she has called Tall Guy from her cell phone, Short Gal feels compelled to give him a running account of whatever she is currently doing. Thankfully, on this occasion she was too preoccupied to be as explicit as usual.
Tall Guy thinks about this for a moment and utters a long drawn out, "Okay?" and then "Why are you heading back?"
"Oh. Because there are dogs." At this point, Tall Guy would really like a little more information than just that. All sorts of dire things run quickly through his head.
"What do you mean because there are dogs? I don't really understand," is all that he says while trying to maintain a calmness that he doesn't really feel.
"Well it's really just this one dog in particular. He is very beaglish and incredibly cute and I'd really like for you to leave work and come have a look at him."
"Sweetie? Why do you want me to do that?"
"Because I am seriously thinking of bringing him home with me."
"Oh." And an entire conversation's worth of meaning is tied up in that one little word.
"You could drive over here in a matter of minutes. It's about your lunch time anyway, isn't it? You could have a look at him and tell me what you think." At this juncture, Tall Guy is bemoaning two things: (1) that his place of employment is just a bit down the road from the pet store and (2) that he will have to either rush his lunch or not get it at all.
"Sweetie, I don't know that I can leave right now." This statement is followed by his hand suddenly muffling the receiver and the faint sound of a female voice in the background. Tall Guy comes back on the line and says a little disappointedly, "Well, I guess I'll be there in a couple of minutes after all." And they hang up. Because their phones are for emergencies only, they have the cheapest of services and pay for each minute they use. They've already racked up quite a bill and so they hung up quickly and without the usual ritual of "I love yous" and "talk to you laters."
It is a matter of mere minutes and Short Gal and Tall Guy are walking together toward the entrance to the pet store. Short Gal is gesticulating and talking rapidly about the dog she would like to take home. Tall Guy is keeping a totally noncommittal silence. Once they are inside, to Short Gal's dismay, they discover that someone else has already adopted "Beaglish" and his brother. But she is reminded that the third brother is out in the parking lot. And so they go out together and start asking around.
When they find him, he is in a small enclosure all by himself. He has scrunched himself up in a corner of it as far from people and dogs as he could get. He is looking totally lost, forlorn and afraid. He is pulling at all of Short Gal's heartstrings all at once and Tall Guy realizes a moment of utter despair. While he was fairly certain he may have made reason prevail with "Beaglish," he knows that he has already lost the battle with this particular mutt. Add to that the fact that he is considerably bigger than a standard Beagle and not yet fully grown and Tall Guy realizes another moment of utter despair. They are not even set up to house a small dog let alone a large one.
Tall Guy heaves a big sigh and watches patiently as Short Gal secures permission to get into the enclosure with the dog who resembles a Beagle not at all. Once inside, she slowly approaches the dog, talking quietly to him all the time. The dog who had been described to them as extremely shy, licks her outstretched hand and in her mind it is a done deal. There are questions to be asked however and Tall Guy asks them: how old is the dog – not very, six months maybe; is he house broken – we are not sure (read that "no"); does he like cats – hard to tell; what's his name - Helmsley.
Short Gal informs the handler that if he can not get along with Winnebago, they will not be able to keep him and asks if there is a problem about returning him. There is not. Finally, she turns to Tall Guy and asks him what they should do.
"Honey, I don't think a dog is right for us right now."
"But right now I am not working outside of the home and it would be the perfect time to get one."
"Yes, I realize that but I don't think I am ready for a dog. You might not be either."
"So you don't think we should get him. But look at him. He needs somebody so badly and he no longer even has his brothers."
Tall Guy stands and thinks for a few moments. All sorts of things he might say rush through his head but he settles on, "All right. You do what you think you should do. I leave this decision up to you. I've told you what I think and now I have to get back to work. I've all ready been gone longer than I should." And with that he takes his leave of her knowing full well that there will be a dog at home when he finally gets there after work.
Short Gal settles everything with the handler and walks over to the table to pay the adoption fee (which is not refundable but if Helmsley does not work out for them, they may choose a different animal at the shelter) and then makes arrangements for them to hold him for a few minutes while she goes back into the pet store to purchase certain doggie essentials: water bowl, food bowl, collar, leash and food. She walks once more across the parking lot, loads the additional purchases into her Jeep and drives over to the pet store parking lot (thereby ruining her carefully laid out gas saving itinerary) and loads Helmsley into the back of her Jeep.
It takes a little while to accomplish this because the dog has no idea what a leash is and what being attached to one means. Also, his shyness has come back in full force. Finally, she settles on picking him up and plunking him down in the cargo area. Whereupon, he laid down and did not move a muscle while she fussed around him a bit making certain he was comfortable and stable. All the while he was watching her with eyes so wide open that Short Gal could just see the whites. Before she closed the hatch on him, she stood looking at him for a moment with her head tilted slightly to the right and a small frown playing about the corners of her mouth. Ideally, at this juncture, Short Gal should have questioned the frown and the thought that went with it, but she did not. She closed the hatch and prepared to drive home with their new dog. Tall Guy will be very disappointed to learn that she did not complete the grocery part of her shopping trip. In her haste, to get the new member of the family home, she completely forgot out food. Tall Guy would never do that.
Luckily for Short Gal and Helmsley, the drive home was a mere twenty minutes. But once there, she faced the problem of how to get him out of the Jeep he was so loathe to get into in the first place. He did not as one might expect, hop right out. He laid there looking afraid and lost despite all of her cajoling. She clapped her hands and kissed to him. She slapped her side and walked away. She offered treats. Nothing would budge him. So once more, she had to gather him up in her arms; all awkward 35 pounds of him that seemed to be mostly legs and feet and a huge head. When she tried to place him on his feet, he nearly collapsed. Short Gal was starting to have certain misgivings, but they did not last long. One good look at the poor dog and her heart would melt all over again and some part of her would reassure herself that everything would be okay. Sadly, this was not to be the case.
There were several hours between Short Gal's arrival home with Helmsley and the arrival of Tall Guy. It required all of those several hours to get the dog to walk with a modicum of competence on the leash, pee on the jasmine in the front yard, get him out of the jasmine in the front yard where he had laid down and didn't seem to want to budge, and into the house. Just about the time that Short Gal was making Helmsley comfortable on an old afghan, having filled his water dish and put food in the other, Tall Guy walked through the back door and wanted to know if Winnebago had met the dog.
Short Gal rolled her eyes and told him no. That she had just now gotten him into the house, admitting that she had finally given up and carried him in through the front door. Tall Guy's sharply indrawn breath and long sigh let Short Gal know just what he thought about that news. As it turned out, getting Helmsley to go out the front door was even more difficult and Tall Guy wisely (he was the only one with a working brain at this point) would not let Short Gal carry him in and out.
Winnebago has a favorite way of dealing with anything out of the ordinary; she hides under the bed in the master bedroom. So it was some time after Tall Guy arrived home, when he and Short Gal and settled in to have a bite to eat and Helmsley had finally settled down a bit on his afghan that Winnebago finally came out from under the bed, exited the bedroom, rounded the corner of the sofa in front of which Helmsley was lying and went almost nose to nose with him before either knew quite what was happening. Winnebago said "meow?" and the dog became aware of her. He sprang up, growled menacingly and lunged at her. She took off like bolt of lightning and was back under the bed in a flash. Helmsley had to be restrained from going after her. He was barking and lunging against Short Gal's grip on his collar and it took what seemed like hours for him to settle down again and give up on having cat for dinner. Finally, Short Gal realized what she had done; she had unthinkingly brought a dog into their home that did not like cats and she had no idea what to do about it. A certain amount of panic set in. Luckily for Short Gal, not all mistakes are irrevocable; although the fix may not always be easy or easily accepted.
[Narrator's note: We had thought that at this point we should make a short-er end to the story and simply say that the dog went back to the pound. But having gone on as long as we have, we thought, "Ah, what the heck."]
The rest of the night was spent trying to get Helmsley to go in and out of the house so that he could urinate and defecate. Then came the question of what to do with the dog and the cat while Tall Guy and Short Gal were comatose for several long hours.
Short Gal did not want to close Winnebago up in their bedroom with them away from her food and water and litter box. Also, she was concerned about what mischief Helmsley might get into all by himself all night. As they had learned, he was not house broken and they had not had much success getting him to do his duty out of doors.
So, not daring to look Tall Guy in the eye, she asked the question that was most pressing, "Sweetie, what do you think we should do with him while we are sleeping?"
To which Tall Guy replied, "What do you want to do with him?" Because Tall Guy has a habit of answering her questions with questions, Short Gal has developed the habit of not directly answering his questions in answer to her questions.
"Well, I don't really want to close Winnebago up in our bedroom. She hasn't done anything wrong and I don't see why she should be penalized."
"Okay…"
"And I don't think it would be wise to leave Helmsley unchaperoned all night." We should mention that she still has not found the strength to look Tall Guy in the eye. She is hoping beyond hope that she will not have to say just what it is that she wants. She is hoping that he knows her so well, that he knows what she wants and will offer it of his own volition so that she will not have to feel badly for asking him to do it.
After a small and thoughtful pause, Tall Guy looks at his wife with a sweet little smile on his face that she totally misses seeing and says, "Well, Little Bird, I could sleep with him in the extra bedroom." And there it is! He has offered and thereby released her from that little bit of guilt.
The next morning, Tall Guy and Helmsley are up before Short Gal and Winnebago. Tall Guy is making a valiant attempt at getting Helmsley out of the front door and into the front yard before the dog can relieve himself on the living room floor (thank goodness it is laminate and not carpet). Short Gal comes into the living room just in time to see that Tall Guy has not been successful.
Over breakfast, they discuss their options as rationally as Short Gal is able to. Tall Guy announces that he is leaving the final decision up to her; that whatever she decides, he will do his best to adapt to it. And so, in the end, she swallows her pride and even though her heart is aching, Short Gal decides that Helmsley will just have to go back to the Pound. She ends by saying, "There is just no way we can keep a dog that wants to eat our cat and I'm sad to say that I just don't think I am up to trying to change that."
After they finish breakfast, they get dressed, begin the laborious project of getting Helmsley once again into the Jeep and they set out for the Pound. Tall Guy drove Short Gal's Jeep because she was crying too much to drive. But she found the strength to enter the pound and tell them she had failed and that the dog wouldn't work out and why. The employees were singularly unimpressed and acted as if they had heard it a million times which most likely they had. This did nothing to help Short Gal with her state of mind.
Tall Guy and Short Gal left him with his collar and leash and big bag of dog food. Short Gal had a dog for a day, and to her chagrin, found out that a day was enough.
Once again you may, dear reader, be asking yourself in what way are Tall Guy and Short Gal not normal. Or perhaps this tale has gone on so long you have forgotten to wonder. No matter, we shall explain it anyway.
Tall Guy knows that some things can not be learned by the telling of it. Some things must be experienced. He knows that this applies, apparently, to Short Gal even more than it applies to others. It explains a fairly disastrous trip to New Mexico one weekend to look for a house to buy with the intent of moving immediately from their house in Arizona. And so while he wishes always to spare her any pain, he lets her learn her lessons in the way that she most needs to despite any and all inconvenience to himself. That he never says "I told you so," is a constant source of comfort and amazement to Short Gal.
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Top-level comments on this article: (2 total)What a delightful article, Dianne. I love this style of writing. So, are you now 'cured' of wanting a dog? :)Hi Joyce.
Long wasn't it? Thanks for making it all the way through!
No, I am not cured of wanting a dog. I will some day have a dog, but not until the time is right. And I think I will let the dog find me rather than go looking for a dog. Besides, my friend with the horses has three dogs (one German Shepard, one Doberman and one German Shepard/wolf halfbreed who is the sweetest dog I've ever met) that I "borrow" regularly. I've got the best of both worlds, the love of dogs without the need to care for them 24/7.
Thanks again for your time.
Hugs,
Dianne
I love your relationship with Bernd, Dianne :) and, somehow I have this kind of "Incredible Journey" idea developing in my mind of Helmsley having a change of heart - or going to group therapy or something to learn to love cats and pitching up at your door one day. Now wouldn't that be grand?Hi Jennifer.
That IS a grand idea. I think all he really wanted was to be wanted and loved but he was uncertain and lacked training in how to get that from a human. He wasn't even all that sure around other dogs despite the fact he had two brothers. I've always hoped that someone with a lot of fenced land took him in so he'd have plenty of room to roam and find the alone time he seemed to need (I understand completely because I get so easily over stimulated) AND the love he needed. I know a cat who learned to ... well, tolerate if not like dogs so it's not impossible. :)
Thanks for stopping by!
Hugs,
Dianne
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