Well, it finally happened. Saxon and I had only been together for two years before she fell in love with another woman. The fact that the other woman had four legs and fur all over her body only made it more humiliating.
Darla Sue, my mutt dog, was the other woman. I can’t say I’m surprised. I saw it coming. In hindsight there were plenty of red flags. Saxon would give her half her bacon, let her lick from her ice cream cone, whisper sweet nothings in her ear, and she even dedicated her last book to her. (Did I get a dedication? No! And if my hand goes anywhere near Saxon’s bacon, she snarls and snaps her teeth at me!)
Two weeks ago, I surreptitiously went through Saxon’s blackberry, looking for evidence of her cheating heart. I didn’t have to look very far. There was a picture of Darla Sue as her wallpaper. (Have I ever been Saxon’s wallpaper? No!)
Finally, I’d had enough of this illicit affair. I put my foot down. And I put it down right in the middle of Walmart.
“Look,” Saxon said. “Isn’t this sweet?” She was holding up a red and green doggie sweater.
“No,” I said, looking at the $15 price tag. “We can’t afford any more presents for your precious Darla Sue.”
“But she’s cold,” Saxon said with her lower lip extended. “She’s freezing at night.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “She has the two sweaters you bought her last week. She also has the three lap blankets that were supposed to be for the family, but that she has wallered in and made stink like dog.”
“That is faulty reasoning,” Saxon said. “She is a dog so, of course, she smells like one. You’re just being mean.”
“Yep, that’s me,” I countered, pushing the cart away from the dog aisle. “I’m Miss Meanie and you can just stand here and shop for your girlfriend all you want. I’m going to go purchase food for our family before you spend all our hard-earned money on dog costumes.” And with that I huffed away – my dramatic exit only lessened somewhat by the stuck wheel on the shopping cart.
“And they’re not costumes!” she said to my disappearing back. “They’re her winter wardrobe!”
I felt justified in my feelings because just last week Saxon had volunteered to take Darla Sue to the groomer on her day off work. Silly me had thought Saxon was being helpful by making the appointment and taking her to Le Paws Parlour. She spent the afternoon checking her phone ‘in case the groomer called and she missed it.’ She was obviously nervous about leaving her precious in the hands of a stranger. When the groomer finally did call, Saxon darn near broke her neck running out of the house to go pick her up.
Fifteen minutes later, Saxon brought Darla Sue home and proudly stood her on the kitchen counter. “Do you like her new make-over?” Saxon asked.
I looked at Darla Sue. She was completely shaved. Except for a strange tuft of hair on top of her head. “They forgot to shave the top of her head.”
“It’s a Mohawk,” Saxon said proudly. “I told them to cut her hair just like mine. What do you think?”
I refused to tell her what I was thinking. It would just cause a fight. Instead I said, “What’s she wearing?”
“I bought her a new outfit. It was only seventeen dollars. On sale.”
To me, ‘on sale’ meant I couldn’t return it. It was hideous and blue and hung down past her paws. “It’s too big,” I said.
“No, it’s not,” Saxon said. “It’s an evening gown.”
She was blinded by love. She was head over heels for a dog with a Mohawk in an evening gown.
“I’ve decided to give her a new name,” Saxon said. “You know, to match her new personnae. From now she’ll be known as Li’l D.”
“Get Li’l D off my kitchen counter.”
That was two weeks ago. I calmed down by the time I pushed the squeaky cart through the dairy, cereal and produce aisles. Saxon had stopped pouting and by unspoken mutual agreement, we called a truce.
Back at home, we put away the groceries and decorated the Christmas tree with Emma. I was starting to feel good about having our family day when Saxon said, “So, I think I’ll run to the Dollar Store and buy some Christmas lights to string up on our porch.”
“We already have lights,” I said.
“I know,” Saxon said. She looked at the toes of her shoes and added, “But I want some more.”
I should’ve known right then something was up.
“I’ll go with you!” Emma said. Saxon grabbed her keys and was out the door with Emma before I could protest.
Half an hour went by and Saxon came back. She walked in the house hiding something behind her back.
“What’s behind your back?” I asked, thinking she had bought me a present.
Saxon sheepishly held up a tiny red Santa suit. “It’s for Darla Sue. She gets depressed around the holidays and I wanted to cheer her up. It only cost three dollars. She’ll be soooo cute and I’ll call her Santa Paws.”
My bad. The present was for her other girlfriend.
I ignored the costume and asked the obvious question, “Where’s Emma?”
“Oh my God!” Saxon squeaked. She turned and ran back out the door.
Fifteen minutes later she was back. This time she remembered to bring Emma home with her.
I have decided that if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, and this year Saxon’s Christmas present from me is a pair of matching silk pajamas for her and her new girlfriend. (Don’t tell her, it’s a surprise!)