A couple of months ago, during a rare conversation with my father, he mentions that his aunt died in the spring and her daughter (who lives in Arlington) wanted some of the furniture, but didn’t have a way to get it back to the east coast. My father volunteered to bring it up after the first of the year and he asks if he can stay a couple of nights at my house. I say sure, but then he tells me that he’s planning on bringing his two chihuahuas. At that point I tell him that I absolutely cannot have dogs in my house for any reason. I explain that it’s written into my lease (it is) and that the landlord lives next door (they do) and that I have two older cats who have never been around dogs ever (this is true as well). He tells me that he has a crate for them. I again explain that I CANNOT HAVE DOGS IN MY HOUSE AT ANY POINT. That it is a VIOLATION OF MY LEASE. That my cats (who have lived in my home for over 10 years) do NOT LIKE DOGS. And most importantly, he CANNOT BRING HIS DOGS TO MY HOUSE, crate or no crate.
During a later conversation with him, I ask about the dogs. He assures me that his Aunt Mary is taking care of the dogs while he’s gone to Arlington/the East Coast.
He is due to come to my house on Friday evening and stay until Monday, when he goes to my brothers house. He left Tulsa yesterday, but I hadn’t heard anything, so I called him today. He’s outside of Knoxville–yes, he left yesterday afternoon, after he dropped Pepper off at Aunt Mary’s (you know what’s coming, don’t you?), but he is BRINGING CHIQUITA WITH HIM. I didn’t say a word. “Oh, that doesn’t sound good,” he says.
“It’s not,” I snap at him. I again explain to him that I cannot have dogs in the house at any point. Again explain that it’s written into my lease, and that my landlord lives next door in the ATTACHED HOUSE, and that I have two cats. He again states that he has a crate for the dog. I somehow manage to keep from screaming and state that MY LANDLORD LIVES IN THE ATTACHED HOUSE AND HE CANNOT BRING THE DOG. Although the walls are not paper thin, I can hear my neighbors (landlord) when they flush the toilet, or they run the vaccuum cleaner in the family room. A dog that is yipping at the cats, yipping at me, yipping at Hallboy? I’m pretty sure they’d be able to hear that. Besides, there’s the whole cat factor…
“Oh,” he replies like he’s never in his life heard what I just now said to him. I somehow manage to get off the phone without screaming (I was waiting for my lunch to be prepared and didn’t want to freak out the waitress).
Did I mention that this is the dog that is NOT HOUSE TRAINED? This is the same dog, that when I was on the phone with him awhile back, he was screaming and yelling at her and chasing after her because she’d squatted on the living room floor.
Did I mention that this is the dog that Hallboy–who would step out in front of a moving bus to save an animal–HATES?
Did I mention that this is the dog that Hallboy reported had fleas and ticks when Hallboy was there for the summer?
Did I mention that this is the dog that my father brought to Braums (an ice-cream place in Tulsa) when Hallgirl2 and Son-in-Law were there and it SNAPPED AT Son-in-law?
I called my brother (who did not volunteer to take my father and his dog any earlier than his appointed Monday evening), and explained to him that when I call my father tomorrow and tell him that I have the names of a couple of hotels and he gets all pissy with me and tells me that he doesn’t have the money for a hotel, that my father is likely not to come at all to Pennsylvania and turn around and go back to Tulsa after he drops off the load of furniture. My brother didn’t act real heart broken. A kennel is out of the question because not only does my father not have the dog’s papers (rabies vaccinations, etc.) needed to get the dog a place at a kennel, it’s unlikely that the dog even HAS these innoculations to begin with.
Even if I wanted to violate my lease and risk being thrown out of my home, wanted to piss off my elderly cats, irritate Hallboy, have a dog shit on my floors, listen to a yapping dog all weekend (have I mentioned that I hate, hate, HATE chihuahuas?), the fact remains that I specifically told him NOT TO BRING THE DOG!
This is going to go down in history as the time I told my father not to come, that I didn’t want to see him. Hallgirls 1 & 2, my mother (they’re divorced) and my brother are all backing me on this, but I’m still so pissed I could scream. I don’t get seriously pissed very often (or easily), but like Hallgirl 2 said about me, “DO NOT PISS ME OFF!” How DARE he put me in this position to basically tell him not to come!
It pisses me off too that he was apparently just planning on showing up at my door with this damn dog! (“Oh, but she has a crate,” like that solves everything.) Even if he does show up now, what’s he going to do? Leave the dog in the truck, (in 20 degree weather) where she can yip all night?
Seriously, what about “NO DOGS” does he not understand??? I’m so tempted at this point to call him and tell him to not even bother making a trip to Pennsylvania. At this point, I’m so pissed that the entire visit will likely be me filled with seething resentment.
