I<\/span> don\u2019t like animals.\u00a0 Okay?\u00a0 I\u2019m allergic to most of them.\u00a0 I mean, I don\u2019t mind<\/em> them.\u00a0 I have nothing against<\/em> them.\u00a0 But the bond I see between my friends and their pets is something that I don\u2019t really grasp.\u00a0 However, I\u2019d be lying if I said I always felt this way.<\/p>\n

We had one family pet when I was a child.\u00a0 I don\u2019t remember when we got him but his name was Alex and he was a little gray schnauzer with what looked like a white goatee.\u00a0 As a puppy he already looked like a little old man, the Benjamin Button of dogs.\u00a0 There\u2019s a picture of me holding him with my Big Bird lunchbox on what I think was a first day of school, possibly kindergarten.\u00a0 A boy and his dog.\u00a0 A quintessential little picture.<\/p>\n

Alex was awesome.\u00a0 He was energetic and smart and made faces and had a very distinct personality.\u00a0 And that poor animal had to deal with me and my learning about life and pain and power and what it does and doesn\u2019t mean to be a boy.\u00a0 I tortured poor little Alex. \u00a0I don\u2019t remember harming him, but I remember becoming aware that I had the power to do so.<\/p>\n

I threw slices of baloney against our fridge so that they\u2019d stick which made him sprint for the treat only to slide headfirst on the linoleum into the refrigerator door.\u00a0 I\u2019d hold a sock up for him to bite at, pulling it out of reach as he\u2019d jump, before letting him get it, laughing as he coughed and choked.\u00a0 I remember getting his leash and rattling it so he\u2019d come running into the room thinking he was going for a walk, only to find me sitting with no leash in sight.\u00a0 I remember making like I was going to swat him and watching him cower at the threat, then hugging him close and comforting him, playing out some warped little mind game of a play or TV scene in my young head.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t ever hit him.<\/p>\n

While Alex was technically the \u201cfamily dog\u201d his care rested mostly on my big sister\u2019s shoulders.\u00a0 She\u2019s seven years older than me and I\u2019m sure that we must have begged my mom for a pet.\u00a0 And I can also assume that my mom conceded only on the condition that she herself never had to take care of him.\u00a0 My mom wasn\u2019t (and still isn\u2019t) a pet person.<\/p>\n

Things went fine for a few years and Alex was with us through a move from Texas to Alabama.\u00a0 I was in the second grade and my sister started high school.\u00a0 Gradually, Alex wasn\u2019t being walked often enough and he started pooping on the carpet, much to my mother\u2019s disgust.\u00a0 \u201cI knew this would happen,\u201d she\u2019d say, rubbing the carpet with a sponge.\u00a0 \u201cIf you kids won\u2019t take care of Alex, I\u2019ll find someone who will.\u201d\u00a0 My sister didn\u2019t bathe him enough and he started to stink.\u00a0 I remember him scratching like crazy at the fleas that tormented him.<\/p>\n

One day, my sister and I came home to find that my mom had made good on her threat.\u00a0 Alex was gone.\u00a0 I ran from room to room, sobbing, calling out his name, waiting for him to come.\u00a0 But he was gone and I hadn\u2019t gotten to say goodbye.\u00a0 My mom had found a family who was on the market for a new pet and she\u2019d given Alex away. \u00a0My sister and I were in shock.\u00a0 We embraced each other tightly, both sobbing at the loss of our pet.\u00a0 And even while crying with her, I blamed her.\u00a0 I was just a kid.\u00a0 She was a teenager.\u00a0 She was supposed to be more mature than me and she\u2019d gotten too busy with her stupid social life and school and driving the family suburban to do god-knows-what with guys to take care of Alex and now Alex was gone.\u00a0 As it turned out, this would be the first of many times that my sister would disappoint me.\u00a0 And ever since that day I\u2019ve had a bad habit of keeping track of every single mess-up.\u00a0 Flunking out of school, every horrible boyfriend, lost jobs.\u00a0 It started with Alex.\u00a0 Looking back, I understand that my mom did the right thing under the circumstances.\u00a0 Alex wasn\u2019t being cared for properly.\u00a0 I just didn\u2019t know how much I truly loved him until he was gone.\u00a0 Isn\u2019t that the way it goes.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s my version of the story.<\/p>\n

Cut to a few weeks ago at a Saltgrass Steakhouse in Arlington, Texas right off the interstate.\u00a0 I\u2019m having dinner with my sister and her new husband.\u00a0 We\u2019re having a good time catching up, but I\u2019m a little tense.\u00a0 Nothing in particular.\u00a0 There\u2019s always just a slight tension when I\u2019m with my sister. Even though we\u2019re both adults now and happily married and living our own separate lives, I still feel myself clench when I see her.\u00a0 It\u2019s that resentment.\u00a0 That keeping score that I\u2019ve done my whole life.\u00a0 We talk about our food, my kids, our jobs (though I\u2019m delicate when I mention work, always losing track of whether she has a job.)\u00a0 I ask how their pets are doing.\u00a0 She has a dog that she\u2019s had for a few years that she adores.\u00a0 His name is Boots.\u00a0 Then out of nowhere she asks melodramatically, \u201cDo you remember Alex?\u201d\u00a0 I smile and nod, annoyed by the question.\u00a0 Of course I remember Alex.\u00a0 And she proceeds to tell the story to her husband.\u00a0 She tells how we got Alex, how cute he was, how I used to torment him.\u00a0 Then she says, \u201cAnd I was home for the weekend when mom gave him away\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

I stop her and say, \u201cAre you sure?\u201d\u00a0 That\u2019s a question I ask my sister a lot because she has a habit of changing the facts to make herself the victim.\u00a0 Nothing has ever been her fault.\u00a0 So instead of coming right out and saying \u201cyou\u2019re wrong about that\u201d I take a more family friendly passive-aggressive approach and say, \u201cAre you sure?\u201d\u00a0 It drives her nuts.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I\u2019m sure,\u201d she says emphatically, already defensive.<\/p>\n

And I correct her, \u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u00a0 You were still living at home, still in high school.\u00a0 We both came home from school that day.\u201d<\/p>\n

She clenches her teeth as I make a point not to clench mine, refusing to give ground or power or something else that doesn\u2019t really matter at the end of the day.<\/p>\n

I let it go and we finish the meal, but as I merge onto I-35 it starts to bug me the more I think about it.\u00a0 It\u2019s a minor detail, perhaps, but if she was already out of the house like she said, already in college, then I was the one who was supposed to be taking care of Alex.\u00a0 It means that I wasn\u2019t as young as I thought.\u00a0 I was thirteen, making me more than capable of walking, feeding, and bathing a dog.\u00a0 It means that my negligence, not hers, was the reason Alex had to be shipped off to a better home.\u00a0 A better family.\u00a0 A better friend.\u00a0 \u201cThere\u2019s no way that can be true,\u201d I think.<\/p>\n

I immediately called my mom to bitch about it even though I know my mother is exhausted from years of being the family\u2019s mediator.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you remember Alex?\u00a0 The dog?\u201d I ask.<\/p>\n

\u201cYesss,\u201d my mom says, with an exasperated tone.\u00a0 \u201cI know, I know, I\u2019m the worst mother in the world.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, it\u2019s not that,\u201d I say.\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s Stefani.\u00a0 She says she was in college when you gave him away.\u201d<\/p>\n

There\u2019s a pause before she says, \u201cshe was.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe was? \u00a0Are you sure?\u201d\u00a0 Another desperate pause.<\/p>\n

And now I have to change my memory to fit the facts.\u00a0 What I remember isn\u2019t what happened.\u00a0 Over time, I\u2019ve conveniently constructed the story of Alex to make me the victim.\u00a0 Not him.\u00a0 Not my sister.\u00a0 Me.\u00a0 Poor little me.\u00a0 And that just ain\u2019t the truth.\u00a0 I\u2019m like my sister in a lot of ways.\u00a0 The flaws I continue to inventory, immaturely and unfairly, in her are becoming more apparent to be mine as well.\u00a0 But I\u2019ll tell you one thing: \u00a0she loves her dog.\u00a0 And she cares for her animals the way they should be cared for.\u00a0 The way I did not care for Alex.<\/p>\n

I really<\/em> don\u2019t think I ever hit him.<\/p>\n

But lately a voice has been echoing in my head like a whisper:<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you sure?\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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