I remember that day perfectly. Dad had left somewhere and mom was on the treadmill listening to music on her headphones. I was laying a safe distance from the mechanical contraption. Did I mention I hate all mechanical contraptions? Although this one didn’t move or make offensive sounds, I still kept enough distance where I could safely observe my mom. I was excited because it was Saturday which meant grilled steaks and beef fat for me...my life was perfect.
Dad stormed in the door and started to yell for mom except he couldn’t breath so his yelling sounded like choking. Mom pulled off her headphones and ran to assist him. I really don’t understand what was said but dad had ran a long way only to carry something heavy back the same distance. Mom looked alarmed and she turned towards me...something was up and it wasn’t good. Having walked out to the garage, Dad returned with the ugliest, lankiest excuse for a Boxer I had ever seen and brought him into the house. He loped like an antelope and proceeded to zoom around the house sniffing everything in sight including yours truly and her special hind quarters! Ugh...why is he here and when is he leaving? Only here for the weekend? Just a visit to see how he acts? I was shocked that they were considering allowing this mutt into our pristine domicile where I always got the best sleeping spot with mom and dad.
My parents still laugh about how Drake took off for miles and Dad had to chase him because mom didn’t hear the phone while she was on the treadmill. I think they should have realized at the moment the ignoramus jumped his leash and ran from the greatest dad in the world that he was not a keeper. They never listened to me.
Me before the Drakemageddon
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