Bad People

The day before today was Valentine's Day! Monica asked me for a favor. She was going on a blind date and needed someone to watch her dogs. Would I watch Loving Hand? Would I watch Burning Sand? Yes, I said. I would watch Monica's dogs. She said she was literally going on a blind date. Her date was blind. Wild, I thought, but it was, I hope it goes well, that I said.

Loving Hand and Burning Sand are medium-sized dogs. Dad is not a dog person. He is not a cat person. Sometimes, he is not even a person person. But I'd already agreed. There was Monica, leaving. She looked pretty. She was wearing something that looked like a dress, but really it was flowing pants. The dogs were in my care and into the house we went. Dad wasn't happy. But he wasn't necessarily mad either. But I think he'd had enough of my shenanigans. Then the weather turned icy.

My sister called to wish me and Dad a Happy Valentine's Day. Dad put her on speaker phone and Loving Hand and Burning Sand listened to her say stuff. It wasn't a very happy conversation because she was talking about high blood pressure and our family tree. "We were related to some bad people," she said. "How did we get unrelated?" I asked. "What do you mean?" she said. "Well, you used the past tense, like we're not related to some bad people any more." "Curt," she said. "What kinds of bad people?" Dad asked. "They went to prison," my sister said. No one talked for a while and then my sister said, "Oh, God, I don't mean to say that Curt's a bad person." "Whatever," I said. Dad looked at Burning Sand and Loving Hand and said, "Who names their dogs those names?" "What dogs?" my sister said. "Nothing," I said. Dad started coughing. "I want a chocolate heart," my sister said. My sister is a nice person overall. Dad took her off speaker phone. He was talking to my sister when Burning Sand pooped on the floor. It was easy to clean up, but I was kind of in shock. She did it in front of me and I wondered if there was something wrong with her. Of course there was if she was going to Doggie Daycare. Meanwhile, Monica must have been staring into the eyes of her literally blind date and wondering what happened to her date's eyes. When you are born blind, what is there to miss with vision?

This is where the story changes, dear reader. It is the same, but also, it is not. We will call him C.

C. picks up the dog poop. C.'s father puts down the phone. C.'s father sees the dog poop. C.'s father says, What is that, dog s**t? H**l no it ain't! Get those dogs out of here. C. has the dog poop in a tissue in his hand. The tissue in his hand is filled with dog poop and then C.'s dad walks over and looks at the tissue in C.'s hand. Out, C.'s father says.

It is icy outside. The dog's don't know what to do. They sniff a tree. They want to go inside the house. Don't poop anymore, C. says. When they come inside, C.'s father has calmed down. Dad, C. says. Am I a bad person? C.'s father looks at C. No, C., you aren't. Sometimes you don't think. That's all. You are an unthinking person. That sounds pretty bad, C. says. The dogs lick C.'s hand. C. never washed his hands after he picked up the poop. He washes his hands. The phone rings. It is Monica. She can't drive because of the weather. Her and her literally blind date are inside a warm building. How is the date going? C. asks. What? Monica asks. Oh, she says. Well, it's good so far. How are Loving Hand and Burning Sand? Just great, C. says. They didn't poop inside, did they? No, C. says. Good, Monica says. Sometimes they do that when they're nervous. That must mean they feel comfortable with you, Monica says. I guess, C. says. Well, I gotta go. My date's waiting. Thanks C. You're welcome C. says.

At night, C. lets the dogs sleep in his bed with him. It is like the good old days. He listens to the ice hit the window. Tap, tap, like a walking stick.