Living with my adopted parents always meant an adventure, and you never knew where you were going to go or when, so I had to be ready to roll at all times. But that was not a problem, because I loved to go.
We would go to town for a coke every evening, if I had my way, and I usually got my way. At 7:00 every evening I would demand that my parents drop everything they were doing and drive to the Kwik shop. They would have a coke and I would get some teddy grahams and something to drink.
Then I was ready to enjoy the rest of the ride. We particularly liked to drag 30th Ave and Main Street sometimes. I liked to go to Carey Park and watch the ducks and geese so we would go down there sometimes. It was a long drive from home to the Park, but Dad didn’t seem to mind since I enjoyed it so much.
When we were in town driving around, we almost always saw a UPS truck somewhere. From my seat on Mom’s lap I could spot them a block or two away, and would begin to warn the folks that one was near by.
I would get very angry as I sat on Mom’s lap and tried to keep that big brown truck away from the blue ranger we were in. But they just ignored me and they would whiz by on Dad’s side of the truck. I would snarl and snap at it as it passed by just to give it one last parting shot and tell it not to come back again.
When we were on the highway the semi trucks were always a real threat and I had to stay on guard to keep my Mom safe. I could spot them half a mile away and would turn so I could snarl and snap at them as they went by so fast I could hardly see them. But as long as they stayed on Dad’s side of the truck and didn’t get near Mom I would just give them the warning.
Trains were another terror on the streets and roads of my world. How could something so big and long be allowed in our town. They looked like a giant caterpillar, with lots of segments, but made to much noise to be a bug when they raced in front of the truck. I would let them know that I was not going to take any guff off of them and to keep moving and leave my town.
Mom and I would go for walks together every night when she finished working in the salon and once in awhile there would be one of those nasty brown trucks in our neighborhood. If Mom saw it we would go another way and miss that street so I wouldn’t get so upset, but I would have to warn it anyway to stay away from us.
One day when Mom and I was home alone the door bell rang and Mom told me to stay in the kitchen so she could see who was there. As soon as she opened the outside door I could hear the brown truck sitting in the street by our driveway.
Mom came back into the house to get something and as soon as she was in the kitchen I raced down the steps and out into the garage. I ran right past the man standing at the door.
I ran out to the street where that big brown truck was sitting and immediately began to attack it. It had these strange round black feet and I tried to bite the first one I came to but it was so hard I couldn’t get my teeth in. It must have had some kind of boots on that were really tough.
So I just stood there and nibbled at the foot and barked and snarled and really told it off and warned it not to come back. At that point Mom showed up and snapped a leash on me and made me go back to the house with her. But I kept looking back and barking and snarling all the way to the house.
I heard her telling Dad on the phone that night, because he was out of town, about what I had done. She told him as soon as she arrived back at the door she asked the man in the brown suit and the brown baseball hat if I had bitten him. He told her that I had not even looked at him but had brushed past him with out a glance and ran straight to the truck.
He said he had been bitten before and had just froze in place when he saw me leap from the kitchen into the garage and race to the door where he was standing but I had not paid him any attention at all. Little did he know that as soon as I was finished with the big brown truck I would have been back to deal with him.
Mom told Dad that they both just stood and watched me bite the tires, and had a little laugh. Then she decided she had better get me under control before he left to return to the truck.
Smart move Mom, because I would have dealt with him on the way back to the house. But I held my head and tail high on that walk back to the house because I had protected my home and my Mom.
After Mom told him about me saving her and the house from the brown truck she let Dad talk to me. He told me what a good girl I was and to make Mom give me a couple of teddy grahams.
I always listened very carefully to Dad on the phone and would roll my eyes around and look at Mom and then away as I was listening intently. As soon as she took the phone back I went to the kitchen to wait for them to finish talking. When she hung up she gave me a couple of teddy grahams, because Dad said that I had certainly earned them that day.
I normally lived up to my registered name of “Tamara’s Precious Lady”, or Miss Lady as I was called, but the fact that I hated trucks would really bring out the beast in me. To contact Sandy: [email protected]
