I took her to the vet right at the two week mark to get the staples removed. Two 200 pound plus vet techs were assigned to my dog. I was in there too. At first, they tried to stand her up, holding her under her arms while the other came at her staples with some awful plier looking things. Instead of barking and biting at the techs as any dog would do in that situation, especially a sixty-five pound, eight month old Pit Bull, Lola's ass started wagging back and forth, tail whipping as she stretched up and licked the tech's face that held her under her arms. Eventually, she wrestled the other tech with the pliers to the ground as I tried to hold her still. While the three of us laid sprawled on the floor, Lola pinning one of the techs to the ground and licking him, starting at the chin and over his bald scalp, butt and tail swinging wildly from side to side, I suddenly imagined a bird's eye view of the situation and started laughing.
Lola was free and ship shape again. I was two weeks in to the four weeks I had to wear a cast before getting my foot X-raid again.
I had taken her out to pee, just days before robbed uteri and broken feet had attacked us. An Atlanta Public Schools bus drove by, kids hanging from the windows. Probably middle school, I guessed. Two little girls pointed at Lola.
"Look at that dog...." one breathed.
I smiled at them.
"FUCK WHITE PEOPLE!" a boy interjected, shoving his head through the window of the admiring girls.
"I wanted to contact you because I am concerned with Paul's performance in Spanish." I began, typing my usual introduction to a parent whose kid acts like a shitbag.
"He consistently has his head down and I have to ask him repeatedly to take his headphones off. He is only passing the class by a point." I continued.
The parent's emailed resonse came almost imediately.
"We need to meet" it stated forcefully.
Great, I thought. I knew who was going to be in trouble, and it wasn't Paul.
I had been given three more weeks in the cast. I was disappointed. I had been totally counting on four weeks and then moving to an ugly shoe. But no.
"Should I be like, sitting down whenever I can?" I asked my doctor.
"Well, yeah...," he replied, thinking, "don't you at school?".
"No, I mean, I float between three classrooms. I move with the kids, I have to go up and down stairs....".
"YES" he responded.
"After all of that, you need to sit down the rest of the day".
Fuck me. And fuck my a-hole school.
I checked my email. I had suggested a time to Paul's mom and again, received an immediate response:
Wednesday at 4 pm will be fine.
Paul knows that I am not
playing with his education.
I felt a smile spreading across my face. She might be a little different than I expected.
I walked through my neighbor's house, headed straight for the bird room. The giant birds that had been friendly the night before were acting strangely. Actually, they scared me. As I replenished their water and gave them kibble and nuts, I felt them biting my clothes. One attacked my hair. Two of them shrunk down and ran toward me, big-ass beaks wide open. I tried talking to them. These fucking things normally can talk back. They didn't. I gave them their food and ran out.
"Hi, I'm Hadley!" the chipper, cute girl on my porch stated in introduction. I had already introduced myself in the same manner, shaking her hand.
She wore short jogging shorts, showing off her muscled, spray tanned legs, though it was chilly outside. She had on a long-sleeved running jacket, her face completely made up and hair in a high ponytail. She was petite, yet buff and strong.
"I just moved here from California!" she stated, hugging and kissing Lola.
"I work with the athletic dogs!".
Perfect. She would look great next to Lola, tearing through the park until my foot heals.
Lola's my princess. She deserves only the best.