The Crazy Woman with the Dogs

19 Feb

I think this snapped me out of a lot of things. This wasn’t adoption-related per se, but it did wake me up quite a bit and I realized a lot about human nature, my ex-boyfriend, the city, and myself. It is a bit race-related, but I don”t think that people who have never experienced racism would recognize it.

I was responding to apartments as usual, trying to find a good solution to my dwindling money situation and got a reply from this one woman. She had dogs. No problem. I have no pets. So I went there dressed up for an interview. I couldn’t find the house. I was a little late. She said she wasn’t there yet even though she had picked the tme. She finally arrived at the house while I was waiting.

She had about five chihuahuas in this one little apartment. Four of them were caged. She was a breeder. I wasn’t really collected after the break up. I didn’t know up from down yet. My opinions hadn’t come back and I was still rebuilding myself, so I ended up helping with her dogs. I felt uneasy about the situation.

It was three hours of wrangling these dogs whom never seen the light of day, even for a walk, because she thought her five foot by two foot concrete yard was good enough for them. I never had seen dogs in near abusive conditions before. She held me up for so long that it began to get dark. I had to insist on an interview, but she still held me up for another few hours and said she would drive me back to the hotel. I said I could take the bus. By the time she agreed to drive me back to the hotel, she said she didn’t feel like it. It felt like my ex-boyfriend all over again, not to mention my parents. She insisted that I couldn’t go home now, it was dark and my Hotel was in a not-so-good part of town. Ten o’clock is no time to go deep into such places, especially when buses spontaneously don’t show up.

She’d already filled the position of roommate, but still insisted on keeping me around. Maybe she knew a sucker when she saw one.

I was forced to stay the night.

She had a new puppy she’d brought home in addition to the other dogs. It was crying because she didn’t want it peeing on her carpet, she wouldn’t take it out of its crate and it was in a new place with five other dogs. I felt seriously bad for this little puppy. It cried in the middle of the night, so I took it into the room I was sleeping in to try to calm it down. It must have been lonely separate from its pack as it was.

It stopped crying for a while, but it didn’t get better. I gently told the puppy that it would just have to learn to be by itself and put it back out in the living room. I fell asleep. About 3:00 in the morning I heard it crying and the woman was banging on top of the crate swearing at it and saying, “Shut up!” It, of course, continued to cry. It cried and cried and cried. That was about the time I knew I had to get out.

I tried to politely leave by bus, but she wouldn’t allow it and made excuses and sadi I could live in the front room. I politely agreed, only because saying no to a woman that would do that to a puppy is kind of strange. She went about selling the puppy on craigslist the next day. Forced to stay for half the day in her house since I didn’t know a polite way to get out, she insisted that I should help her dye her hair platinum blonde, feed her dogs, and basically I should pet sit for her while she mooched off of her ex-boyfriend to get tickets to go to Hawaii.

The fact she did these things in such extremes reminded me of my ex-boyfriend a great deal. This is the beginning point where the ice broke and I couldn’t stand it anymore between my ex and me.

She drove me back and asked for an answer the next day.

I thought about it, discussed it with my Mom who was handling all my expenses since I was just back in this city and decided wisely t turn it down. Since my mind wasn’t clear, I turned to my Mom as a voice of reason, even if she was not always a willing party to be subjected to it.

So I called her in a very professional manner, which I’d learned through doing secretary and reception jobs and said I was turning the offer down, but thank you. She started saying, “But I thought we were friends! How mean-spirited, I told me Dad what a good person you were…” and she went on a long rant about this and that and how “mean-spirited” I was. I raised my voice above hers, and said sweetly, “Just informing you. Sorry. Goodbye.” I hung up.

It felt good hanging up on her. But all those personality flaws to that extreme, I think I felt for the dog in the crate, because for years I was that dog in the crate.

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