Finally Home-Lessons on Life from a Free-Spirited Dog (15 page)

Usually the waitress
wa
s the one that serve
d
your drinks, but I think the hostess s
ensed
our desperation and
brought
the beers immediately without saying a word.
That poor host
ess probably had nightmares
about the two psychopaths who walked in talking in monotone sentences and looking like hell.

Prior to this trip, we ha
d
never
consumed
alcohol at Denny’s of all places
. A
t this point
, however,
it was somewhat of a necessity as we had one more long, exhausting, headache-filled day to go.
Thankfully, we did not get lost once due to Michael’s great navigational skills.
That was
the
one thing we had going for us.
Had it been up to me, we would still be on the road today trying to find Las Vegas.

After our beer-drinking binge, things seemed to be a bi
t better. (Doesn’t it always seem to work that way?)
We were able to pass out and sleep through the night.
Since the next day was supposed to be only a short, six
-
hour drive to Las Vegas, we did not leave at
six in the morning
as we had
done
the previous three days.

We were able to relax, sleep in a bit
,
and leave a little later. We were in a slightly better
place mentally
, though Buddy
was still
the same.
Six hours in the car with him
seemed like a lifetime
. My only hope was that we would be
able to survive one more
horrific
day
.

It has been said that change is good.
I don’t remember anyone saying it was easy.

I never
dreamt that
I would
be
so happy
to drive
over the Hoover Dam.
Our Las Vegas house was now only about an hour away.
Finally, we
’d
made it.
Four days
had
seemed like an eternity.
We both felt as though we
had
aged ten years.
It was h
ard to believe
that
just four days
prior
we were living in New York
,
and
now
we were starting all over again in Las Vegas, Nevada.

When we finally arrived, we let the dogs
venture through their new home and
showed them the potty area, which they learned right away.
We were happy to have our dogs’ cooperation for that reason.
It did not take much to get them acclimated.

Once that was all taken care of, we started the strenuous but necessary task of unpacking our van.
After a few
exhausting
hours of unloading everything, dragging boxes in
to
the house
,
and
lugging them
up the stairs, we noticed something small and pink toward the front end of the inside of the van.
It was
scattered
all over the front and
clearly e
mbedded into the
tiny threads of the
carpet.

As we
investigated
a little
deeper
, I remember shaking my head, closing my eyes
,
and taking a deep breath.
I then looked toward the house where Buddy was
staring at me through the window
and shook my head again.
I felt my body tense up and the muscles in my jaw start to clench.
I think
that was the point when
I began the habit of talking to myself in a wide variety of
meaningless
obscenities.

On the floor in front of me,
rooted deep
into the carpet was four days
’
worth of what was supposed to be the one thing that was to save us, the one
strategy that
we so carefully planned out, the sure
-fire
sleep aid
that would calm Buddy down: Benadryl!

He
had
not swallow
ed
any of them.
Not one
.
There were
close to
sixteen pills on the floor of that van
, melted and rooted deep into the carpet
.
He took his pill pocket cookie, ate the cookie
,
and though I could swear I watched him eat the whole thing, he
had
spitefully spit out each and every single Benadryl tablet.

I immediately had a flashback to years ago when he was on his puppy Prozac and how they did not seem to affect him.
I wonder
ed
if they
had
not work
ed
because he
’d
spit those out as well
.
Would his previous owners find them crushed up in a corner upon cleaning the basement one day?
Would the same feelings of anxiety and disbelief flow through their body like a never-ending stream? This freaking dog!

While that did explain a few things, it certainly did not make me any happier.
There
wa
s nothing more embarrassing or frustrating like having a dog outsmart you…once again.
I d
id
not consider myself to be a genius, but I d
id
like to take the liberty of saying I
was
definitely smarter than a dog
;
however, I was
truly
beginning to second
-
guess myself.

We had
lost
it.
We were dangerously close to our breaking point
. It was imperative that we left and ate lunch. We go
t away from the dogs, regroup
ed
, start
ed over, and tried
to forget the nightmare of the past four days.
After all, w
e were starting our new life in Vegas.
Michael had his job from New York, though slightly modified, and I was, for the moment, unemployed.

I did not realize what a
vulnerable
position that was until
we settled into our new home
.
We made sure Michael had his job and did not really concern ourselves with me.
Looking back today, four years later, I am not sure I would be so daring
—
especially with the job market and the unstable economy.
I am glad we had the courage to do it though; otherwise
,
we would have never gotten here.

After a
few weeks of searching the job-
boards, I was able to land a job part
-
time for a somewhat egotistical man who
m
I really did not respect or like.
That did not last too long
,
and I actually got fired for taking days off.
I had never been outright fired before, but it was rightfully so.
I was only working two days per week
,
and I took those two days off.
I just was not that into it
,
and it was quite far from our house.
If I
had
not g
otten
fired, I most likely would have quit.
It was just a matter of time.

After a few more searches, interviews
,
and mandatory drug tests (most jobs in Las Vegas require them), I landed a job at a popular employment staffing agency
. It
would have been decent; however
,
it was not in my line of work. The job was as a recruiter for computer
-
related field
s
, but my
expertise
wa
s in technology, not recruiting, so this did not help me much.

I stuck it out until something better came along, but
I
could not wait to leave.
The hours were long, and it was very different from what I was accustomed
to
.
Michael had to constantly listen to me complain about traffic from this job (near The Strip) to our house fifteen miles away.
I think he secretly could not wait for me to quit
.

During this job search, we were also searching for another house.
The one
where we were residing was
quaint, practical
,
and served its purpose, but it was just a bit small for two adults and two
large
dogs.
The yard gave them no room whatsoever to stretch their legs.

There was also a
disturbing
incident that got me extremely livid
—
enough so that I did not
need to think twice about moving.

Michael was out of town
,
and my neighbor was having a private family party. I was sitting on our couch in the living room, enjoying a peaceful night of watching a movie on television with my dogs lying on either side of me. Our front window facing the normally quiet street was open
,
and a gentle, warm breeze was
flowing
through.

A few hours into the neighbor’s party, their two five
-
year
-
old girls were outside and kept running in front of
my
window, making the dogs bark and go crazy.
The girls would then run away.
Five seconds later, they would come back and
repeat
the same thing.

I tried to be patient
;
after all, they were just kids, but the more I sat there and allowed my peaceful night to get interrupted, the angrier I was getting at the parents.
Where were they and why were these kids allowed to roam free after dark?

After about another three minutes of this repetitive nonsense, I lost my otherwise calm demeanor.
My patience level had dwindled to zero, as I really did not appreciate anyone tormenting my dogs or myself, for that matter.

I quietly went outside
,
and
just
as I did, I overheard the kids say to each other
,
“Let’s throw rocks at the dogs!”
They were planning to throw rocks at
my
dogs.
That was just simply
not
going to happen.
At that point,
I really did not car
e that they were five years old
. I went over there
,
and in
the nicest tone that I
could muster, I let the kids know that they will not
ever
throw rocks at the dogs and to knock it off immediately.
To my amazement
, they listened and ran into the backyard.
The parents were still
nowhere
to be found.

Not wan
ting to ruin the owner’s party and since the issue seemed to have been
resolved, I patiently waited until the next day to speak to him
. I wanted to let him know
about his kids and their grand plan.
I politely explained to him that they were purposely annoying the dogs
,
and had I not gone outside, they were going to throw rocks through my window and at my innocent dogs.
I shudder to think of what would have happened if I
had
not
been
home
.