“Mom. It’s Frizzy. She’s -she’s real sick, just panting” my daughter was hysterical on the phone.
Fighting my own fear I told her to take our little dog to neighbors who could rush her to the vet. I called ahead and raced to the vet myself. I knew as soon as I saw Joy that little Frizzy was gone. Joy looked so small sitting there crying.
“Mom, I don’t know what happened” Joy said as she buried her face in my shoulder. “She was fine when we played this morning, just that little cough like usual. She went to lie down in her bed while I cleaned up the kitchen. I looked in on her after I finished my lunch and she was just laying there panting, hardly moving.”
That evening alone in my bedroom I wrote on my Facebook page that little Frizzy had passed away unexpectedly. She had been like a second child to me. So sweet so- well frizzy, just a mutt we took in and loved when my husband left us. I received an immediate outpouring of sympathy from my pet lover friends and was feeling a little better as the evening wore on until I received a private message. It said simply, “Its only a damn dog. Get over it”. I couldn't believe a “friend” could be so callous. The people I chose to be friends with know me and how much Frizzy meant to me and Joy. But looking more closely, it wasn't from a friend, crap, it was my husband! Frizzy had done it again. She had brought that no good man out of the woodwork. Now I had a way to go after him at last and I started to feel a little better. Again.