"We adopted her thirteen years ago. She used to be so happy and full of life," said
Kim Reynolds, as she attempted to scrub a stain out of her living room carpet. "Toward the end though, she was anything but fun. She kind of just sat around
and whimpered. Every once in a while I'd come home to a pile of feces in front of the television. She really knew how to make the lady of the house feel special," said Mrs. Reynolds.
"I mean, the kids loved her, but they'd just as soon fall in love with a pet rock. A pet rock doesn't grow disgusting toenails or have to go outside every five minutes, or look up at you with big, brown, baleful eyes every time you try to eat dinner, or hump your friend's legs when they come over for cocktails," said Mrs. Reynolds.
Tom Reynolds was found dismantling the poorly constructed wire fence in the back yard. He shared in Mrs. Reynolds contempt for Cocoa. "Don't tell my kids this, but that little son of a bitch was the bane of my existence," said Mr. Reynolds, wiping sweat from his brow. "If I could have predicted the 3 grand in veterinary expenses I shelled out this year, I would have drugged him and buried him alive instead of holding a back yard funeral for my children."
Mr. Reynolds lamented over Cocoa's wake of destruction: "Have you ever had a pair of loafers that fit just right, that defined comfort, that were official enough for the office, but casual enough to wear around the house? Well, I have, and that flea bag tore them to pieces. I'll never find another pair like that one," he said with a sigh.
"The night Cocoa expired, Kim and I waited for the kids to go to bed and uncorked a bottle of wine we had been saving for our anniversary. We talked about our future, and how nice it will be not to have to use that damned lint roller every time we leave the house," said Mr. Reynolds.
Kim Reynolds said her children were at a loss for how to cope with Cocoa's death. "The kids are devastated. It's sad how young and naive they are. Some day when their carpet is covered in paw prints and their feather pillows lie disemboweled on the living room floor, innards strewn about the house like confetti, they will get it. Until then, they are going to have to settle for a fish tank."
No comments:
Post a Comment