Parenthood

Sunday December 5 2004

I remember when I was 13 years old. My dad gathered up my sister and I one Sunday afternoon and took us down to the County Animal Shelter. I had recently become the oldest sibling having lost my brother Rufus in Viet Nam the previous week. My dad bestowed on me the responsibility of choosing a puppy to come home with us. My 9-year-old sister, Daphne, picked out a brown Chihuahua. He was only about 4 inches tall. I was more partial to the bigger dogs but the little puppy made Daphne so happy that I chose him. We named him Mr. Biggles. My dad explained that the people at the shelter would be putting these puppies to sleep because no one wanted them so we were very proud to have saved this little dog’s life.

We stopped at the feed and seed store and purchased all the accoutrements associated with a new puppy; food, chew toys, a leash etc… then we took the puppy home. We played and played with the puppy. I made sure to take him out side as often as possible because my mom didn’t like him going to the bathroom in the house. I became quite attached to Mr. Biggles even though I had really wanted a bigger dog.

One day about two months after we had gotten the dog, my dad called my sister and I into the house. He was holding Mr. Biggles; scratching him on his head as he paced back and forth. He began speaking. I could tell by the tone of his first few words that something bad was coming. I could just tell. “Kids, sometimes God does things that we don’t understand.” I wondered where my mother was as he continued. “In our lives we will be given things. We will also have things taken away.” I thought I heard her crying in the distance somewhere. “You are going to remember what is about to happen for the rest of your lives. You may even hate me for a while but when you are older you will thank me for teaching you this lesson”

I was trying to think to my self, had Mr. Biggles chewed up something important? Did we wet on the floor? I heard my mothers sobbing becoming clearer and clearer as my dad started walking toward me. I could not figure out what was going on but I knew it couldn’t be good. He handed Mr. Biggles to me and reached in to his pocket and pulled out a 2 ft long piece of rope. The dog sat in my lap staring at me with his little brown marble eyes; tongue wagging in and out. My dad handed me the rope as he began speaking again.

“Son, your brother Rufus went to Viet Nam to save people from the communists. Just like you and your sister saved Mr. Biggles form the people at the Animal Shelter." He paused for a moment then continued. "There is always a price to be paid for war, a very high price. In order for you to understand how the world works you must learn to make choices and be willing to live with the consequences” He pulled a pistol out of his back pocket and slowly loaded it with bullets from his shirt pocket. He called for my mother to join us.

My mother appeared from the kitchen with one of those wind-up kitchen timers, which she handed to my dad. He turned the dial as she sat down on the sofa. She buried her head in her hands an sobbed loudly. My dad walked over to her, kissed her gently on the back of her head, then turned to face me and Daphne. “Quaid,” he said “I’m going to set this timer for 2 minutes. Then I‘m going to put this gun in my mouth. When the 2 minutes is over if that dog isn’t dead, I am going to pull the trigger. Do you understand?” he asked as he was turning the dial on the timer. Click… clickkkkkkkkkk… Click…“Yes Daddy” I replied as I began balling like a little girl. “ No Daddy! No!” I heard Daphne sob.

Tick… tick… tick… tick… tick… tick…the timer tocked away each second. My mom had to restrain little Daphne who was desperate for my fathers embrace “Daddy Daddy Daddy!” she cried…I was frozen in time. How he could leave a decision of such dire consequence in the hands of a child…Tick… tick… tick… Surely, he knew I couldn’t kill a puppy, even if it meant he would die… Tick… tick…tick… Maybe he knew that I would kill the puppy only because his life depended on it…
Tick… tick… tick… tick… tick… How much time had passed I wondered as I hesitantly looped the rope around the puppies neck, 30 seconds, 40? He was beginning to squirm in my lap and I found it increasingly difficult to hold him still as I took the slack out of the rope… Is there still enough time?Tick… tick… tick… tick… He was a tall man with rough skin. For a split second or two I watched him. He stood like a stone statue. He had always projected an air of power and security. I admired him. He was a self-made man who had taught himself to read and write. He was the smartest, and bravest man I ever knew… I watched a bead of sweat trickle down his brow as he stood there eyes closed; gun in mouth.

Tick… tick… tick… Somewhere in my mind I was still trying to formulate a solution that would save the lives of the dog and my father but that distraction kept me form the task at hand…I will never forgive him for this…

Tick… tick… My mother came over to help me hold the struggling puppy but she was still holding back my hysterical sister. Her efforts to help me were futile. Mr. Biggles claws dug through my pants leg and pierced my skin… I pulled the ends of the rope with all of my might…

Tick…

KAPOW!!

Copyright © 2004 Quaid Davis. All rights reserved.