Read My Best Friends Have Hairy Legs Online

Authors: Cierra Rantoul

Tags: #Abuse, #Abuse - General, #Self-Help

My Best Friends Have Hairy Legs

BOOK: My Best Friends Have Hairy Legs
10.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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Copyright © 2008 Cierra Rantoul

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1-4392-1330-5
ISBN-13: 9781439213308
Kindle ISBN: 978-1-61550-349-0

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CONTENTS

T
ITLE
P
AGE

C
OPYRIGHT
P
AGE

P
REFACE

C
HAPTER
1

C
HAPTER
2

C
HAPTER
3

C
HAPTER
4

C
HAPTER
5

C
HAPTER
6

C
HAPTER
7

C
HAPTER
8

C
HAPTER
9

C
HAPTER
10

C
HAPTER
11

C
HAPTER
12

C
HAPTER
13

C
HAPTER
14

P
REFACE

“My Best Friends have Hairy Legs” is the story of how my dog, Trooper, and I overcame abuse and bad marriages and learned to trust again. Trooper was a Humane Shelter puppy—one of the phrases they used on the t-shirts they sold for fundraising is where the title of the book comes from. In the process of helping him learn to trust men again, I have reached a point where I feel ready to trust again myself. While my two-legged soul mate has not yet come into my life, I am confident that with the love of the four-legged soul mate in my life I will not be lonely and I will be ready when he does arrive. As much as this is a story about Trooper’s growth from a fearful puppy to a confident adult dog—it is also my story—my growth from being a psychologically abused wife into a confident woman who can look back at my past with laughter and with no regrets.

Almost all the names of people have been changed. The facts are true as I remember them and as I occasionally wrote in my journal. The decision to change names was not so much to protect the “innocent” but because I wanted my story to be anyone’s story. I don’t believe my story is that unique because I have heard from many women who have been in abusive relationships or who suffer from low self-esteem. Our stories might differ, the details change, but the emotions and feelings are the same.

I wanted to tell my story—our story—because we have survived to come out on the other side of it. I wanted to tell it to give hope to others who are struggling to find their way. There is a light within you. Find it. Be it. Share it.

There aren’t any bras burnt at the end of this book—or dog collars—but the metaphor is the same. We are happy with who we are.

C
HAPTER
1

Wearing Blinders

I hadn’t planned on getting a second dog. Especially a dog that would weigh 70+ lbs. by the time he was full grown. I already had a full house with four cats and a pug that had frequent health problems. So when Marc, the man I had just started dating said that he wanted to get a puppy for his son, Ryan, who was with him for the summer, I really didn’t consider the possibility that I would be adding to my own clan. Little did I know…

I met Marc in April when I was working a part-time second job at a major department store. I worked on the floor selling appliances and he worked in the stockroom. I had asked the night phone operator what he was like since I had seen them talking quite a bit and before I knew it, she was trying to play matchmaker.

Marc was quiet and very shy. He was six years younger than me, and had been in the Air Force for nine years by then. His marriage had only recently ended. He and his ex-wife had married when she got pregnant. Eleven years later while he was on a solo military assignment in Korea, his wife had moved her boyfriend into the house. When he came home on a mid-tour visit she told him he wasn’t welcome to stay in the apartment that his paycheck was paying for. Marc had raised her daughter from a previous marriage since she was three and she was now 15. Their son was now 10. When I met him, he had been back in the states only since March and his divorce had just become final. He was working a second job just to be able to take care of his son while he had him for the summer.

We started dating over the 4th of July weekend and right away there were “red flags” that I should have paid attention to. The first time I went to their apartment, a Sunday morning two weeks after we started dating, I excused myself to use the bathroom before we left for church. I noticed there were two dead palmetto bugs (a.k.a. the Florida state bug) in the bathtub. As I was leaving the bathroom, Marc asked if I would mind taking them out of the tub and putting them in the trash for him. I asked why he wouldn’t do it, and he said that neither of them liked bugs and wouldn’t touch them. I asked how long they had been there, and when he said over a week I asked where they showered.

They didn’t. They just went swimming in the apartment complex pool every night. Marc did shower three mornings a week at the base gym after they did PT, but for the most part, they just “bathed” in the pool.

Marc also seemed to always be short on cash, and I soon found myself picking up the tab whenever the three of us went out. I rationalized to myself that he had only recently been divorced and had to start over again with almost nothing. The only piece of furniture that his ex-wife had allowed him to take was the stained mattress that she and her boy-friend had shared while Marc was in Korea. Everything else in his one bedroom apartment was loaned or donated by his parents. Ryan slept on a pull-out sofa in the living room, and their dining room table & chairs were plastic lawn furniture.

Ryan’s mother called him almost every day and as soon as she was done interrogating him about me, she would ask to speak to Marc. They would argue endlessly about money and what a bad influence he was setting by dating an “old bitch.”

Excuse me? The woman who moves her boyfriend in to play house while her husband is on a solo assignment thinks that
I’m
a bad influence just because I’m older than her???? I wasn’t offended by the “bitch” reference. In fact, it was probably the nicest thing she ever called me. B.I.T.C.H. Beautiful. Intelligent. Totally in Control of Herself.

In spite of all the red flags and signs that Marc had more baggage than Imelda Marcos taking her shoes on vacation, I continued to date him. He was a good father to Ryan, and was struggling to set a good example and start his life over. They went to church every week, and Marc was adamant about keeping our relationship celibate while Ryan was with him for the summer. A decision I also agreed was best considering how traumatized Ryan was already by his mother’s unconcealed affair. The “bad example” that his ex-wife accused him of setting by just dating me couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

I know that Marc’s desire to get a puppy for Ryan before he went back to his mother’s at the end of the summer was an attempt to get Ryan interested in living with him full time. He hadn’t been able to afford to fight for joint custody of Ryan when the divorce was filed, getting only visitation during school breaks. While he was in Korea, Marc had missed him terribly, and when he got back all he could think about was when school let out and he could have him for the summer. Until that time, Marc drove eight hours one way just to spend two nights with his son every other weekend. They talked on the phone every day. I couldn’t imagine a more dedicated father.

Marc and Ryan saw the puppy the morning he arrived at the animal shelter, and picked him up that afternoon. He was about six weeks old and they were told he was a lab and pit bull mix. He was adorable. I fell in love instantly, but tried hard to keep my distance since he wasn’t going to be my dog but Ryan’s.

Marc had not thought about the restrictions of his apartment complex, and when he found out that the pet deposit was as much as a month’s rent, he asked if he could keep him at my house during the day until he was able to come up with the deposit. Of course I said yes. Any excuse to see that cute face as often as possible… and I was referring to the puppy—not Marc.

Since we didn’t know the exact date, we decided his birthday was June 2nd—about six weeks prior to when he was adopted. To decide on a name for him, we each made a list of names we liked and voted names off our lists until we arrived at the final three. The movie “Starship Trooper” had recently been showing on TV and Ryan and I were big fans. He loved to play games that involved role-playing… secret agents on spy missions to save the world. We would create elaborate plots, fake ID cards with our pictures on them, and imaginary super powers and weapons to battle enemies. I had put “Trooper” on my list of possible names because it sounded strong, and it was chosen in our last round of voting.

Days became nights also when Marc realized that puppies require more attention than he was used to giving anyone other than himself. Oh, did I say that out loud? What I meant to say was that puppies require time and attention to get them housebroken and trained; more time and attention than Marc or Ryan were able (and willing) to give, especially to a puppy so young. I soon found out that Ryan had never had a pet for longer than three or four months… as soon as the cuteness wore off, so did his interest. Marc had also never had a pet for long other than a family dog when he was growing up, but as I learned more about Marc, I learned more about the family dog.

BOOK: My Best Friends Have Hairy Legs
10.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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