Melisse did her residency at Baylor College of Medicine in Houston. The timing was really great, because Rick and I had an extra house. Technically, two extra houses. We each owned our own homes when we met, and we bought a third one shortly after we married.
Even though Rick’s duplex was in a bad neighborhood, it was larger than my teeny, little house, so we moved into it. I tried to sell my house for the debt, but the market had collapsed in 1985. It’s hard to believe Houston wasn’t always the robust economy it is now. Remember those days, “Staying alive til ’85”? Handing over the keys to the bank was never an option for me. Where I come from, you honor your obligations. As luck would have it, Melisse moved to Houston just when we needed a renter.
But, our duplex kept getting burglarized. The cutting edge neighborhood was just a little too on the edge for me. Rick didn’t care about the frequent break ins. We didn’t have anything worth taking. But it sort of freaked me out. I never felt safe there. I wouldn’t stay there alone. The second time it happened, I asked the cop what we could do to prevent it from happening again. Without hesitation, he said, get a dog.
I called my dad, the veterinarian, and asked him, “in your professional opinion, what is the most scary, bad ass dog that is actually sweet, friendly, and loyal.” He immediately said Rottweiler. This started our love affair with Rotties. Dad and Melisse picked out a puppy for us from a litter in Memphis and shipped him to Houston. Buck was the cutest thing you have ever seen.
At his first official vet visit in Houston, the young doctor told me that Buck had a heart murmur. That he had a hole between the ventricles of his heart. I said you must be mistaken, my dad is a vet and he picked him out. Turns out she was right. Lesson learned, little girls, daddy does not always know best.
About this time, Rick’s mom died and we used his inheritance to buy a house in a better neighborhood. I was tired of staying in a hotel every time that Rick went out of town. The new house had a much larger back yard with room for a dog run at the back of the lot. We built a little dog door for Buck so that he could go into the garage to chill under the ceiling fan and listen to the radio we left on for him all day while we were at work.
One weekend Rick and I both had different out of town trips. We asked Melisse to stop by while we were gone to play with the dog. Buck and Melisse went way back. She had, after all, been with Dad when they picked him out in Memphis. Once Melisse moved to Houston, she was at our house all the time and she and Buck were tight. He recognized her car immediately and began running around in circles. He raced through his doggie door into the garage to greet her. As she approached the side door he jumped up and put his feet against the window, fell back and was dead before he ever hit the floor.
Luckily our next door neighbor was mowing his lawn and helped Melisse put Buck in her little sports car. She took him to the emergency vet clinic where he was pronounced dead on arrival. She declined the autopsy, much to my chagrin, and came home empty handed. She frantically called Dad and asked him what she should do. He gave her the only advice there was. Lie.
She taped a note to our door telling us that Buck was at the vet and to call her when we got home.(technically not a lie) Rick got home first. He called her, but she didn’t answer. A few minutes later she drove up and with a quivering voice told him what had happened. I came home not long afterwards, bounded in the door and asked “where’s Buck?”
Then they told me. We all stood in the living room and cried like babies. Melisse went home and started cooking. She came back later that night with casseroles and ice cream. That’s what you do when there’s a death in the family. We all knew Buck wasn’t long for this world, but none of expected it to happen like this. We have kidded Melisse over the years that she killed our dog. It just happened on her watch. I miss those days when Melisse lived in Houston. When our dogs recognized her car. When we shared meals and vacations and memories and the occasional tears. We were a family. It seems like a lifetime ago.
She taped a note to our door telling us that Buck was at the vet and to call her when we got home.(technically not a lie) Rick got home first. He called her, but she didn’t answer. A few minutes later she drove up and with a quivering voice told him what had happened. I came home not long afterwards, bounded in the door and asked “where’s Buck?”
Then they told me. We all stood in the living room and cried like babies. Melisse went home and started cooking. She came back later that night with casseroles and ice cream. That’s what you do when there’s a death in the family. We all knew Buck wasn’t long for this world, but none of expected it to happen like this. We have kidded Melisse over the years that she killed our dog. It just happened on her watch. I miss those days when Melisse lived in Houston. When our dogs recognized her car. When we shared meals and vacations and memories and the occasional tears. We were a family. It seems like a lifetime ago.
Just Passing Through 