Eleven Memories: Seven

One day I came for a visit to find that Bob and Ruth were already there. Uncle Bob and Aunt Ruth didn't visit very often. This was the first time I had seen them in ten years.

There were bits of blue ribbon by the front door, and more of them in the kitchen where I left Papa making cigarettes. I followed the trail into the living room where Nana, Bob and Ruth were. A grey pile, possibly the contents of the vacuum cleaner, was at Ruth's feet. The tangled grey mass shifted as I came into the room. It stared at me through matted grey curls, growling.

It was Ruth's dog.

For Auntie Ruth, clearly 'dog' equalled 'poodle' and genetics, breed standards and reality be damned, she was going to have a poodle. The animal at her feet was certainly poodle-like in the sense that it had four legs a head and a tail, but she'd had to do the rest of the work herself.

The grey fur had been left to grow long on head and ears and had been trimmed and combed to resemble the bouffant top-knot of a championship animal. Unable to achieve the pom-pom look of a poodle tail, Ruth had simply let the fur grow. The rest of the hair was clipped short. Mostly.

Two or three blue satin ribbons lay scattered around the 'dog' where they had failed in their duty to maintain the poodle illusion. More of their comrades bravely fought to keep ears and top-knot in check, but I could see that the battle was hopeless.

I stood frozen in the doorway as the animal continued to growl. I love dogs, and unless they are actively trying to bite me I have never held back from greeting them. I was holding back this time. Mostly because I wasn't entirely sure that Auntie Ruth hadn't found a rabid raccoon or a giant long-haired rat and decided to adopt it and partly because if I had to open my mouth, the first thing that came out was going to be a laugh.

I managed to squeak my hellos and excused myself to 'make a cup of tea' following the trail of abandoned ribbons back into the kitchen.

Papa had finished making up his cigarettes and was sitting at the kitchen table.  I wondered why he wasn't in the living room with everyone else. He prodded a fallen ribbon with his toe.

'Your Aunt Ruth's an odd one, but we love her anyway,' he said. 'And she sure does love that dog.' He grinned.

The two of us sat in the kitchen until we could control ourselves.