so i woke up with that funny feeling, you know, when it feels like it really happened, and your physical reaction is real. now, this is good for sex dreams, but not so good for those ones when someone you love dies, or someone is really mean to you, or there's unfaithfulness, or lying, or someone is trying to kill you, etc.
THEN, this morning the real estate lady came to inspect the house we are renting. last time there was an inspection, i didn't make any effort to hide the Gigi.
gigi love
i thought i'd be upfront and see what happened. i don't like lying, you see.
this was about 6 months ago, and the conversation went something like this:
Real Estate Woman: oh, so you have a dog
[pause while we both listen to the sounds of desperate puppy whining and scratching coming from further inside the house]
Me: yep
REW: so, did we get permission from the landlord about having a dog?
[do you not HATE that "we"?]
Me: um, no. I didn't think I needed to [nose starts to grow, strangely. but she didn't notice]
REW: oh yes, it's in the lease you signed
Me: well, let's ask the landlord then, and get his permission
REW: well I'd hate to ask him and him to say no. Then you'd have to get rid of your dog.
Me: um, well, I wouldn't get rid of her. I'd move house.
[pause]
REW: i think the best thing is if I pretend I don't know there's a dog here.
[cut to now, 6 months later. the last REW has left the job to have a baby. There's a new scary and tough-talking REW who I "met" on the phone to set up the appointment for 10am today.]
Now, I decide I won't be stupid again. I've heard about people who hide their dogs etc, so I duly organise for Gigi to go and play with her friend in the next suburb. I remove all evidence of a dog resident. This includes:
* piles of poo from backyard
* all the sticks she has dragged out of garden waste pile at back of garage. she likes to chew on them.
* one chewed-up, slobbered on teddy bear
* one purple dinosaur [ditto]
* one rope knot [ditto]
then i had to remove all her bedding, her food and water bowl, her eight tennis balls. and some more poo. and cover up the holes she has dug with some dried leaves and a big, moulded green plastic shell [for water play and sand play in the summer.]
then her hair. this didn't mean just vaccuuming. 9.55am saw me on hands and knees on the back ramp trying to sweep up bits of white hair that were showing up really clearly against the mission brown [gorge] paintwork. which i had just swept. and mopped.
i took down posters and duty roster PSP [my 8yo daughter] had made to welcome Gigi into the family.
i made sure nothing, nothing was in sight. hid the full 15kg bag of dried dog food in one of the cupboards.
then the new REW arrives 5 minutes late, after sitting in her car outside my place for a good 15 minutes to psyche me out.
after 60 seconds, the conversation is going like this:
NREW: so, is that your dog out the back?
[pause. we both listen to the yapping of dog next door]
Me: no, that's next door's. It's not around all the time I don't think. And there's a bigger one on the other side.
NREW: but you do have a dog don't you? [looks at me for an answer, and looks at a piece of paper she is holding in her hand.]
WHAT HAPPENED NEXT?
DID I LIE?
DID I TELL THE TRUTH?
DID I START TO CRY?
HOW SWEATY DID MY ARMPITS GET?
DID MY FACE GO RED AND DID I START TO TALK TOO MUCH TO TRY AND MOVE ON OUT OF THE "SITUATION" HOPING SHE WOULDN'T NOTICE MY DISTRESS?
8 comments:
You kept answering questions with questions? Like "Do you think I'd keep a dog HERE?" ...
You burst into tears and told her that your dog died... traumatically.
well?
You... um, ahh I got nothing.
Oh, this is going to be more suspenseful than Desperate Housewives' cliffhanger!
Your hand darted out suddenly grabbed the rip-cord which had been dangling unnoticed by the hallway door. A huge canvas bag opened over her head, disgorging its contents of 18 kilograms of white dog hair (over her standard issue black real-estate agent suit), one dinner bowl, one water bowl containing a solution of 43% water 57% saliva, 3 welcome posters, one well chewed dog toy knot and 3 pig's ears.
The agent tries to remain professional. This lasts .0000000023 seconds. She loses it so badly that she actually dissolves and becomes a small puddle of bubbling acid. Ironically, the hole burned in the carpet causes you to lose your bond in the future.
You told her that the dog had to be put down after it mauled the last Real Estate Woman for being too nosy, didn't you?
You should have said (if it was real life anyway)
" We used to have a dog, but recently my daughter was at her friends place and her friends dog bit her. It wasn't anything major, but as a result my daughter became scared of our dog and as such sadly we had to giver her away."
The beauty of this is that she can't castigate you given your recent family "trauma" and if she comes and makes a suprprise visit one day and finds the dog you can say, "Well my daughter, though still upset over what happened, missed her dog and became even more upset at having given her dog away. As such we had to get it back."
In terms of bad dreams, I had one last night where I was the last person alive on earth. This is strange because I really don't find life that enjoyable even when there are other people on the earth, but beng the only person alive would be even worse.
Someone I know had a pet pig in their back yard in St Kilda. When they moved out, the landlord kept asking if they had a pig.
He didn't by that stage because he called a butcher round and they slaughtered the poor thing and ate it.
I am informed that if they dug up a certain corner of the yard they would find all sorts of bits of ex-pig.
Your landlord is fortunate...
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