January 28th, 2014
My Dad has a flip phone and he rarely texts me.
So, it’s says how much he loved the “dog” in the picture above that he (a) didn’t call and (b) didn’t do so this morning, when she passed. News like that is delivered always word of mouth and immediately, except in the case of our furry kids.
Kara was one of the three lucky Miniature Schnauzers my parents adopted as a rescue child. The term dog is never allowed in a conversation in our family. It’s an insult. These are our children.
A survivor of either Rita or Katrina, maybe even both? She was found on the streets in Louisiana and brought into Houston to the local shelter, weighing only six pounds. If you know the breed at all, you know how tiny and ridiculously underweight she was.
Kara quickly came to know and love my family, particularly my Dad. Before his retirement, he worked mostly from home. We jokingly referred to Kara as his secretary and his “mistress” because she would follow him everywhere, sit right beside him in a slimmed line leather recliner and would start to get upset with him if he was still at his “office” / desk at 6 p.m. As for the “mistress” part? She had a high pitched wail that she would use when he left and when she heard him return home, but was still beyond her reach behind the gate. This wail could be heard through closed doors and windows, and first was heard when my parents drove her from Houston to their country home in Riverside. How they survived the nearly 2 hour trek is still a mystery.
Her closeness to my Dad remained until today, as she would follow him all over their home and he even had a “pet” bed beside his chair in the bedroom that his computer is in, where he can often be found.
I chose the photo above because when Lexi didn’t want the tiara we found, we decided to give it to the true Princess in our family, and partially as an apology. You see, the visit to the Riverside house before, Lexi laid down in front of Kara, closest to my Mom, wagged her tail accidentally directly in Kara’s face. Kara took it as a personal afront and looked at both my Mom and me, as if to say, “who does this bitch think she is?”
From that point forward, Lexi was a little bit persona non grata. Anytime I took Lexi to the lake after that, Kara followed us around and side-eyed me the whole time. The “you know you’re not leaving that cute white thing here, right?” look unmistakable because there was no room for competition in her house. She barely put up with my Mom and Samatha, their other female furry kid knew her place. Me? Well I was related to her version of God. Not completely acceptable but not easily dismissed.
Kara will be greatly missed and my Dad, as he has been prone to do, was likely building her coffin this morning and early afternoon, to bury her in our family pet cemetery. That is how he deals with the immediate aftermath.
My heart breaks for him, but my parents gave her a wonderful life. You can’t ask much more of furry / hairy parents than that.