I suppose I could blame all of this on Hollywood. Owen Wilson, if I wanted to get specific. With his drawn out drawl and hot wife he made it look so easy, in spite of all the trouble and mischief surrounding his situation. October second was a blustery day. It was the sort of early fall day where you’re pleased to wear a sweater. On that day in October, I slipped into my car, armed only with cash and a Mapquest provided route, and began the journey south. No one in my family knew that I had left Williams Bay, and was about to leave Wisconsin. My final destination that day was Bourbonnais, and after many months of deep contemplation and troubled sleep, I wound my way to a small park where a woman with a friendly face looked genuinely pleased to see me. I handed her too many hundred dollar bills, and with that, I may have made a very big mistake.
I got to pick which one I wanted, and in less than an hour, I helped my companion into my car, and left Bourbonnais. Her name was Molly. That wasn’t really her name at that time, but when I returned home with her a couple hours later and asked my daughter to come outside to take a look, the trip and the cash and the tortured nights were all rewarded by a look a surprise on her round little face. May carried Molly into the house to the delight and utter surprise of my unwitting wife and son, and with that, Molly was the new canine portion of the Curry family. What on earth did you think I was doing in Bourbonnais?
I’m not a dog lover. I’m generally violently allergic to them, and have no interest in smelly, slobbery animals. That’s probably why I avoid fairs. I do not like other peoples dogs either. When America’s Funniest Home Videos features a dog montage, I look away in disgust. This disdain for furry friends is what makes my trip to Bourbonnais even more curious. If I can be honest, I bought the dog because I thought it would make my daughter like me more. There it is. The honest truth, from one father to hundreds. I bought a very expensive, non-shed F1B mini Labradoodle because I thought it would make my daughter like me. I thought maybe when she’s older and getting married she’ll think about me and all the ways I wasn’t a very good dad, and she’ll frown. Then she’ll think to herself, but he did take me on lots of boat rides, and he did buy me that dog even though he doesn’t like dogs. Then she’ll smile and I’ll take her hand and walk her down the aisle and all will be well.
I was intending to write about Molly sometime earlier this month, but I had to be happy with her in order to write. It seemed like any morning I thought of writing about her she’d do something puppy-like, but still horrible. Like soil the living room rug. Or soil it four times in two days. Or the morning she poked her wet nose right into my left eye and sent me to Walmart at 5:30 am to buy some allergy medicine and eye drops. Or any one of the mornings since October second where I’d wake up feeling miserable because a stupid dog had just kept me awake all night. But this morning I found little to complain about. I found that I enjoy the way she follows me around the house, hoping I’ll drop some food. She’s already onto my obesity, knowing well that if there’s a free meal to be scored, chances are it’s coming from the tallest, fattest member of the family.
As with most things in my life, I’ve drawn a simple connection between Molly (I’m aware it’s the most generic dog name available, thank my 4 year old for that) and a Lake Geneva vacation home. It’s sort of like the parallel that I recognized between a piano and a Lake Geneva vacation home last year. When I first started thinking about giving in to my daughters teary pleas for a dog, I thought the idea was ridiculous. First of all, I don’t even like dogs. I particularly don’t like cleaning up after dogs. I also don’t like things that do those sorts of outdoor things indoors on my rugs. I didn’t want to get a dog, because I figured my life was stressful enough. Why did I need a dog to complicate the whole thing? Am I so calm and collected that I feel the need to introduce more chaos to my life? The answer was, and is no. In my already busy life, how on earth could I fit a stinking dog into the already jumbled equation?
It’s now three weeks into the Molly experiment. I’m starting to like her. She’s awfully cute, and like my children, the cuteness will go a long ways towards dealing with the bad behavior that oozes from every fiber of their beings. The way I feel about fitting a dog into my life is pretty similar to the way a lot of people feel about fitting a Lake Geneva vacation home into theirs. Life is hectic enough without another house to worry about. It’s hard enough to find time to be together as a family, without another house to get to and take care of. It’s easy to make these sorts of excuses as to why a Lake Geneva purchase doesn’t make sense, much like it was easy for me to make excuses as to why this dog thing didn’t/doesn’t make sense.
There’s a good chance that Molly will live until my children are grown. There’s a great chance that Molly will be an integral part of their life, even if she’s an unnecessary part. There’s an even better chance that after several years of having Molly, we’ll all wonder how on earth we lived without her. A Lake Geneva vacation home is like that too. Once you have one, there’s a terrific chance you’ll wonder how you ever lived without it. And, if you need an even better reason to buy a vacation home here, just remember my motivation for buying the dog. Do it so on your daughters wedding day, she’ll sit there and think about how strict you were at times, and how mean you were to her boyfriends. But after moments of reflective introspection, she’ll think, well, at least he bought that Lake Geneva vacation home for us.