Sons of a bitch. That’s what we were in the market for. Two little male dogs. That’s what we were on the hunt for this weekend. The following is a tale of good intentions and futility. Let’s start off with my mother.

Michael’s Mom

My dad passed away in April. It was a pretty traumatic experience and my entire family was pretty rocked. Since then my mother has been on a roller coaster ride of emotions. At times she’s been helpless, other times crabby. She almost lost her house in Virginia Beach. Her income has been cut in half. This poor woman feels like she has no control over her life as the most important person to her has passed away. In fact, she can’t be alone at night when she’s in Virginia Beach. She has to have someone with her in the house.

To get around this she has her sisters spend the night with her. She’s even asked one of her sisters, who has several children, if any of the kids wanted to stay with her. Essentially, she’s lonely and wants someone to care for. She was married for over 40 years to my dad; the last 6 of which were spent tending to him in his sickened state.

She kept telling me, through her tears, that if she just had someone or something to care for then she would feel better about her situation. So we suggested a dog. At first she was excited. She wanted a small dog like a Shih Tzu (blah). Instead, Angela and I found her the hypo-allergenic, easy to care for Bichon Frise. Mom was overjoyed. She would finally have a tender little someone to depend on her and to keep her company.

To keep this story short let’s just say that my sisters then got in the picture. After a lot of haggling (one sister was hesitant because my mom would bring the dog to her house while babysitting her daughter, the other would have had to have had her stay at home husband watch it while mom was babysitting) I got a phone call from my mom. I could hear her choking back the tears and I sensed the disappointment in her voice. “I don’t think this is the right time to get a dog. I don’t want to make trouble.” And then she cried.

At this point Angela had already reserved the dogs which were being sold for $300 a piece. I wanted to go over to each of my sister’s houses and bitch slap them. So now my mom is in Virginia Beach by herself. No dog. With both of my sisters being complete assholes to her.

The other side of the coin: Angela’s Mom

This left Angela with the task of calling the breeder to cancel one of the adoptions. We motored on. This morning was a good morning, though. We were prepared to devote most of our day to the animals. I took the boys out in the morning and let them run themselves silly and then we brought them in for grooming. After a little bit of relaxing without the dogs in the house, we would then travel the 1.5 hours away to pick up the little white bundle of puppy love for her mom.

Angela’s mother had also had ideas about owning a small dog. I suppose that it is ideal when you think about it: a little four legged mop that would follow you around and provide you companionship. You could scoop it up and love it or reprimand it when it was required. It was easy to clean. It would love you unconditionally. Angela’s mom had considered getting one of these dogs for years and now that they are in their new house in North Carolina they were about to get one.

At about 8 am this morning, after almost three weeks of discussing this with her parents and getting all the details squared away, they called her. Angela’s mother no longer wanted the dog. She somehow convinced heself out of getting it within the span of less than 12 hours. After doing the research, coming up with a name for the dog and being excited at the prospect of finally getting one they pull out at practically the very last minute. We were prepared to house the little fellow here for a few days, too, until Angela would have been able to take it down to NC later in the week.

Angela was livid. I was livid. Angela gave them the name of the breeder and told them to call to cancel the adoption themselves.

Sometimes I wonder if dealing with families is worth the pain.