We decide to leave her to her delusions of persecution while we all take our seats around the dining-room table—each one of us having been provided with our very own maritime-themed plastic placemat.
“You know,” Pam says, through mouthfuls of potato chips, “I have to confess, the reason we decided to adopt Tallulah is because she looks exactly like the very first dog Jock and I ever had together. It’s really quite something. It’s like they came from the same litter, I’ll tell you what. And I know you agree with me, Jock, that dog, Blue, was the best dog we ever had. He was so gentle and sweet and good-natured—not like the last dog we had. No, that was no good at all. Did the woman at the adoption agency tell y’all the story?”
Both Sue Ellen and I shake our heads.
“Well,” she says, “she was a pit bull our daughter rescued down in Tampa, and of course we just couldn’t say no… could we, Jock?”
“You couldn’t!” he snorts, sitting up straighter in his chair.
She laughs sort of awkwardly at that, opening a second can of Diet Coke and gulping a good bit of it before continuing. “Now, now. That’s not true. You agreed we’d give her a chance. And she really was a sweet little girl. But unfortunately, we both still work during the day, so any dog we get will have to be at home alone until a little after five each night. And while we’ve never had a problem with it in the past, Clementine—that’s what we named her—must not’ve been used to being left alone, ’cause when we got home that first day… well… we…”
Her voice catches, and I see suddenly that her eyes have gone kinda red and glassy, like she’s fighting off wanting to cry.
But it’s Jock who goes ahead and completes her thought.
He shakes his head back and forth slowly. “It was like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in here, that’s what it was. Pammy had her four cats living here, and that dog, she got every last one. Little bits of cat was spread from one end of the house to the other. It was a darn shame.”
Pam sniffles loudly, clutching her hand to her chest. “It was more than a shame, it was a tragedy. And the worse part of all was that we had to put that poor, sweet dog down. It was one of the worst days of my whole life. So you can see why adopting another dog means so much to me… to us.”
Sue Ellen shoots a glance over my way.
“Wow,” I say, really just trying to process the whole story. “That’s so awful. I mean, that is so, so awful.”
I pause to think for a few seconds before the question comes to me.
“But, uh, I don’t understand…. Why’d you have to put the dog to sleep after that?”
The woman covers her face with her hands. “We had no choice,” she sobs. “It was too dangerous to keep her after what happened.”
I’m not sure I follow her logic on that, but thankfully I’m saved from having to respond, ’cause Tallulah is suddenly there at the sliding glass door, whining and pawing to come in.
“Oh,” Pam sniffles, straightening up and making a big show out of wiping away tears that I don’t think were ever really there. “Oh, heavens, just look at me. I’m so sorry. Here we are with a new doggy in the family, and I’m boo-hooing like a little girl. Why don’t we let Tallulah in so she can get used to the house? Hon, you mind letting her in?”
That last bit was obviously addressed at her husband, who, in response, rises silently from his chair and goes directly to the door.
Sue Ellen kicks me under the table, but I don’t have time to say anything before Jock’s already got the screen pulled open and Tallulah is inside, running circles around the room with a frenzied look in her wide, glossy eyes. She pounces on the table and I yell at her to stop, and then she gets scared, so she runs and jumps onto the black, slightly purple leather sofa—spinning around several times before finally compacting herself into a tight little ball.
“Uh-oh. Uh-oh,” Pam says, flustered.
Jock walks over to Tallulah in three strides, leaning directly over her.
“Tallulah, bad dog. No getting on the furniture,” he sort of half yells at her.
I stand up quickly so I almost knock over my goddamn chair. “Wait,” I call out. “Wait, I’ll take care of it.”
Jock’s eyes shift back over in my direction. “No, no, it’s all right. She’s gonna have to learn to listen to me. I can handle it. I served four tours of duty in Vietnam. I’d like to think I can get a dog off of my couch without anybody’s help.”
He chuckles to himself, turning back to Tallulah.
“Honey, maybe you should let him do it,” Pam tries, but Jock just snaps that he’s got everything “under control.”
I get myself ready all the same.
“Now,” he says, kinda growling real low at her. “Tallulah, off the couch, right now.”
She doesn’t move. She just stays staring, staring up at him with her clouded eyes.
“Come on,” he tries again. “Get off. Right now. I mean it.”
His hairy hand inches closer, but still she doesn’t move.
“Tallulah!” he suddenly yells, startling the whole lot of us. “Off the couch! Now!”
Tallulah doesn’t like that one bit.
She lunges up at him so fast he barely has time to flinch.
Her barking is loud and vicious, and it’s only by total luck that I’m able to jump and tackle her before she actually gets her teeth into him.
Of course, she yelps all over the place when I pin her down, but she doesn’t try to bite me at all, so I’m able to get her
