Dolly's Obsession
Miss Mae
November 15, 2009
She has three sisters: Violet, Rose, and Daisy. Daisy is definitely lower class as she and her husband, Onslow, live in what we yanks call "public housing". Their flat is never tidy, Onslow is always attired in a tee shirt, reclined in front a beat-up television, munching chips and downing the ale. In their front yard is parked a wreck of a car. It doesn't run, it just sits there. Every time Hyacinth walks by (or any visitor), this hairy head pokes through a window and releases a volley of shrill barks. We're never told the dog's name, it simply enjoys its place of refuge in the car.
(Please view the photo of my dog, Dolly, in our car)
I've written of her before. Three years ago we got her from the humane society as a mature adult (probably four years by our estimate). We have no idea of her history, but it's apparent that at some point in her life she was loved and cared for. She was taught to "sit", and she was brushed and, we believe, taken fairly regularly to the groomers. And they rode her in cars.
This girl loves to ride. She begs everyday to go riding. She knows when I'm getting on my shoes that I just might be heading for the car. She whines and pleads and waits by the door, then bounds to the car. When we do take her with us, she just sits in the back, leans over and kisses our cheek. I think she could travel for a week and never get tired!
On those times when we aren't going anywhere, she's content to simply be in the car. She'll sleep for hours, all by herself, in her special "spot".
The car runs fine, but I've decided that when it gives up that last spark and floats away to that great junkyard in the sky, we'll still need to keep it parked in the driveway. Just watch out when you come to visit. You might get a hairy head poked through the window greeting you with her excited barks saying, "Wanna go for a ride?"
Copyright 2009 L.M. Thomas
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