Hell of a Guy

A Dog Named “Stella”...

11/14/2007

I have hesitated writing anything about The Dog named Stella and her visit with The Nancy and me, but my daughter Michelle is shaming me into doing this.  So, let’s start off with a little history and a smidgen of background.

Stella came to live at the Farm sometime in or around October 1, 2005.  The idea was for Stella to grace our home for a few of months.  The “couple of months” turned into almost two years, and had Stella not sustained a little injury and be in need of lot of TLC just about the time Michelle moved from an apartment to a house, she might be with The Nancy and me, still.

My photograph and bio will never show up in the “Animal Lovers Hall of Fame.”  It just isn’t in my nature.  Now I could never be cruel to an animal; that also is not part of my nature.  Hell, I don’t even eat the damn things, but having animals in my home is not thrilling to me, either.  I can take them or leave them, and if I have my druthers, I’d leave them to someone else.

So here’s the thing: The Nancy and I have a cat.  The cat tolerates me, but loves The Nancy.  Stella, on the other hand, became my girl-buddy.  She followed me everywhere.  If I moved from one room to another, it wouldn’t be long before she came to where I happened to be.  If I went to the basement, Stella wouldn’t follow me, but I would find her very often at the top of the steps when I would come back up them.  Saturday and Sunday mornings when I got up (and The Nancy slept in with orders not to be awakened under any circumstances on penalty of death) Stella would follow me to the car and ride with me on the seven-mile trip to Sheetz (gas station) for coffee and a newspaper.  When I cut the grass and moved around the Farm on my lawn mower, Stella would follow and lay in the shade of a tree watching me until I moved to another section, then she would tag along and do her thing again.  Stella loved the Farm, but rarely wandered more then a couple of hundred feet from the house, unless The Nancy and I took a walk in the paths through the fields.  Stella loved to tag along and loved to take a swim in the lake as we passed by it.  She became my shadow.

Stella was a pain in the ass.  She threw up on the carpet, spread black hair all over the house, though she never got up on the furniture.  She smelled like a mildewed, black blanket, and she was always licking on me because I know she knew I didn’t like to be licked.  She has breath so bad that it could take the paint off any surface.  She busted the screens out of two doors on our front porch.  She scratched up doors when she wanted in the house, and we had to have our carpets cleaned twice to rid them of her puke spots and oily dirt spots where she like to plant her overweight body and sleep.  Yep!  She was a pain in the ass.

The part of this that is inexplicable to me, and solely the result of propinquity, is that relationship between that old dog and me grew into a love affair.  Stella now resides with Michelle and her step sister and brother (Gypsy and Rambo).  I believe she is in a better place now where she can spend her last days in a very loving household with her buds.  I will miss her at times.  I know this because Saturday and Sunday mornings aren’t quite the same any longer.  My daughter shamed me into writing this, but the shame is just my not wanting to have to admit to anyone that this Hell of a Guy could possibly miss an old dog named Stella.

And that is all I have to say about that…

 
Next entry: Thanksgiving Remembered… Previous entry: Dinner From Hell or In It…
 

Dad-
You are the best! I missed her, too, and know what a “pain in your ass” she would be when I asked you to take her. You obliged, because you LOVE me (and, for the record, I am a pain in your ass, too). I suppose there is a fine line betwenn pain in the ass and love??
Stella is very happy here with us. The good news is,. you won’t have to take her again AND you can see her whenever you see me.
I know she misses her kitty!!
I love you for being my Dad and all you have done to help this 40 year old grow up…..with bated breath, I know!

Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  11/19  at  12:30 PM

Commenting is not available in this channel entry.