I am avid watcher of Dateline, 48 Hours mysteries and Wives with Knives, so I know the spouse always ‘did it.’ No matter how upset they appear at the first news conference, you find out they lived a double life and planned their spouse’s demise with the utmost care. It was murder! Next thing you know, it’s the perp walk, trial and last interview in an ugly orange prison uniform. It’s a standard formula, which is why I have started telling people if I die under mysterious circumstances, it wasn’t my husband, Carey, it was my dog, Stella. She wants me dead. And, no, I am not crazy.
Let me explain. We have two dogs, Stella and Stanley, both rescues. Stella was a lot to handle as a puppy, which is why I ended up walking hundreds of miles to wear her out. For some reason, she never really attached to me. Instead, she worships at the feet of my husband. Stella is a show-stopper. When you walk her, people stop to tell you what a beautiful dog you have. She is a husky/shepherd mix with one blue eye and one brown eye. She loathes unattractive dogs but loves people … except for me. If you walk into our house, Stella will pose so you can gasp at her beauty, wag her tail so you are charmed, and then start licking you to demonstrate her love. And just like that, you will be on her side. But with me, Stella just stares, usually with her blue eye, waiting for a chance to take me out.
If my husband is on the bed, Stella is cuddled up on my side, evident by the dog hair on my pillow. If Carey is in his easy chair, Stella is in his lap, all 65 lbs. of her. She does not respond to my calls or commands but always mysteriously appears when I’m walking down the stairs with a load of laundry, presumably trying to take my legs out from under me. Everyone knows I am uncoordinated, so a fall would certainly be seen as an accident, “just Patty being clumsy.”
I always assumed I was somewhat safe since Stella could never get near a weapon, but last week, I read about a dog that shot his owner in the leg when they were roughhousing. Apparently, the man had a pistol in his belt and somehow the dog flicked the safety off the gun and discharged it. The man called 911 and reported that his dog shot him. Now, there are all kinds of things wrong with this story, and I could spend an entire column dissecting its weirdness, throwing in a dash of the importance of gun control and safety. I Googled ‘dog shoots owner’ to read more, and this was not the only incident. There could be an entire TV series based on dogs with guns that could be called Canine Killers with Cesar Millan reporting, “It was murder …”
We aren’t gun owners, but it made me start thinking about the occasional snake that escapes and wraps itself around its owner, and I decided there also should be a TV series called Reptiles Revolt. And what about people who keep rats as pets? Rabid Rats. You see where this is leading. OK, maybe Stella really isn’t trying to kill me. But if something does happen to me, it’s the dog, not my husband.
