Lady and Cash


  Lady tells her story about her life with her best friend.

 

Lady and Cash

 

 by Big Daddy Cash

 ****

This is Big Daddy, I’m back to try and capture your attention. This short story is coming to you with a completely new approach. If you’ve been following my short stories then you know that I’m willing to try almost anything. Not being as smart as the average bear I don’t know whether it will work or not but I’m going to try it anyway. The story is about a dog and her master and I’ve given the dog the ability to tell the story the way she sees it, by the way, the dog is a very smart dog. And now Lady begins her rendition of her life with Cash.

 

My name is Lady and I’m a big black Lab., not really that big I was the runt of the liter. I guess for a Lab. I’m small, but I think I’m pretty big. Cash brought me back from the other side so that I could tell my story, he’s always doing things like that, and that’s one of the reasons that I love him so much. Well, for a dog and I never was treated like one, I have a very good memory.

 

I can take you all the way back to when I first became a part of Cashes life. My brothers and sisters were from the highest pedigree line of pure bred animals that were raised to be show dogs. Unfortunately for me, I was the runt so I didn’t belong. My breeders were going to have me put away and I remember that day well, I wanted to live.

 

They had already called the veterinarian and he was going to euthanize me, whatever that was, it sure didn’t sound good. Anyway my breeders were on their way out the door, with me in a cage, when they ran into a neighbor who told them about a guy down the street who had just lost his companion a dog named Brock.

 

They decided to see if he would take me. You don’t know how happy this made me. My heart was thumping and my tail was wagging as they knocked on Cashes front door.

 

My world came to an end when Cash told them that he didn’t want me, that the loss of Brock was to hard to take and he didn’t want to get that close to another living thing. They said;

 

“That’s OK we have an appointment to have her put away.” Cashes reply was…

 

“You can’t do that I’ll find her a home.”

 

Oh thank God, I had found my home. I would make Cash love me so much that he’d never give me away and that’s when I became Cashes very best friend and constant companion.

 

My first real home was on Roosevelt Ave in a small suburb called Sugar House. Boy was I a lucky dog. Cash and I took to each other right off the get go, and that’s the truth.

 

My new home was really nice and cozy. Cash gave me run of the whole house and it was lots of fun exploring the closets and under the beds, sometimes I’d find the neatest things to chew on or take outside and bury.

 

I remember once finding a real nice boot under the bed and I assumed that Cash had left it there for me to play with while he was away so I chewed on it the biggest part of the day.

 

Wow, they say that only dogs get mad and people get angry. Not true! Cash really totaled out. Gosh, I never heard so many new words and he ranted and raved for days.

 

He said all his life he’d wanted Tony Lamas so he finally bought a pair and now he only had the left one to wear. He was so angry that I thought he would never get glad. I knew I had done wrong and I really was sad, but Cash finally got over it and then I was glad.

 

Cash said many times that no dog would ever measure up to his Brock, so my greatest desire was to prove him wrong. I wanted to be the best I could be, so my master Cash would really love me.

 

I remember one time when I pooped under the living room table and Cash scolded me and put me outside for the longest time.

 

Then there was another time when I pooped in a shoe, ha…ha…ha…This I have to tell you about, it’s really a funny. There was this salesman Cash new that was really obnoxious, when he visited us he would take off his shoes and put them along side the couch and they would stink up the whole house. Well I had to go really bad and there were these shoes that smelled just like shit so I plopped a good one right into one of them.

 

Wait a minute I’m not through yet! I’m just getting to the best part. The guy got ready to leave and put on his shoes and you should have seen the expression on his face as the poop oozed out around the top of his shoe.

 

Cash laughed so hard that he rolled on the floor and that guy never came back to our house any more.

 

When I was little I was always doing things that would upset Cash, not on purpose I want you to know, and I think it was just the puppy in me. Another thing I want you to know is that when I did bad things Cash never hit me but boy could he give a French Blessing and sometimes they’d last for days.

 

It took me about a year before I grew out of my mischievous ways and we both managed to survive.

 

I grew to love my master, Cash, more and more with each passing day. I wanted him to be proud of me and love me in the same way. I tried real hard to learn to do all the things that would please him.

 

Jack, our mailman trained me to take in the mail, he worked with me for weeks until I had it just right. Jack would hand me the mail and I would deliver it right to Cashes favorite chair. Soon I started doing the same thing with the newspaper. My reward was a pat on the head and the simple phrase, “Good Girl.”

 

Sometimes Cash would talk to me like I was human and could understand all that he was saying. I learned to nod or shake my head when he was talking to me, an even though I couldn’t understand every word, he thought I could. Usually by his actions or his expressions I knew what he wanted…

 

You know, it was pretty obvious that Cash liked us four legged creatures better than he did you two legged ones because he always treated us so much better.

 

I never saw him hit an animal but I seen him beat up many a human. Cash had a real bad temper but he never lost it on me or any of my kind.

 

Cash sold our house on Roosevelt Ave. And we moved clear out to 6400 south just below State St. We lived in a duplex surrounded by a bunch of duplexes.

 

Cash called it our house of sin because all of our neighbors lived on the other side of the law. Our carport was where they all liked to party and let me tell you, they had some wild and wooly parties.

 

Cash fit right in because he could drink all of them under the table. My Cash could hold more booze and still navigate better than anyone.

 

Cash had been a heavy drinker since the day I met him but his bouts with drinking were getting more frequent and more out of control than ever. I loved my Cash, but I hated his drinking.

 

Although Cash was never mean to me when he was in the state of inebriation he was less caring and somewhat thoughtless. Alcohol changed him from the kind hearted person that he really was to something quite different. I loved him but sometimes it was hard to tolerate him.

 

We had a bunch of hookers that lived on the east side of us and a bunch of doper musicians that lived on the west so our house was always like Grand Central Station. There were all kinds of action going on day and night and day in and day out

 

I remember when we left Roosevelt Ave Cash mentioned that we had over 100,000 dollars in the bank and even though he wasn’t working we’d be alright.

 

Not true! Only four and a half months later we were running out of money and Cash still wouldn’t work.

 

Come to find out that most of the big parties that were going on Cash was footing the bill for and with booze and dope running like water they were not cheap.

 

Cashes destiny was knocking on our door and it wasn’t long before we’d be living on the streets.

 

It had been a little over ten years since I first came into Cashes life and we’d gone from a beautiful home in Sugar House all the way down to the dissolute streets on the west side of the Salt Lake valley.

 

We lived with the degenerates, the transients, the bums, and the hobos. All of us were outcasts from society.

 

Cash lost his car shortly after our departure from the social system which was a good thing because he had set the record for tickets while driving under the influence.

 

We had been incarcerated a dozen times, Yes, I said we I was either sent to the pound or shared the cell with him. I became the mascot in more then one jail in the state of Utah. The jailers all loved me!

 

I’m going to stop here because I want to reminisce a little. Let’s go back to some of the good times that Cash and I had together when we lived in Sugar House.

 

Cash liked to play the guitar and sing; he even was quite good on the harmonica. Sometimes in the middle of the night Cash would say come on Lady let’s go, he would grab his guitar and his harmonica and off we’d go, usually to his favorite spot in the middle of the Country Club golf course overlooking the city lights. Cash would play the guitar and we’d sing songs until the sun came up.

 

Hey, I’m not such a bad woofer, I can howl right along with the best of them. These were the best of times. These were the times when I got to know Cash better then anybody else. Know him and love him.

 

There were the Sunday mornings when we’d go to the park and he’d let me chase all the ducks back into the pond where they belonged. Then there were times when just he and I went on hunting trips.

 

I remember the long, long walks we used to take. When Cash used to work a little, he took me with him and I’d lay by his truck and protect it from intruders.

 

In spite of all of Cashes problems there were hundreds of wonderful and beautiful times we spent together.

 

This next little story I’m going to tell Cash would be able to tell better then I but it was special so I’m gonna try.

 

This took place in Sugar House. A stray cat found shelter in Cashes workshop towards the tale end of winter. She gave birth to nine kittens. Because of her weak condition and the bitter cold weather she died during the process. I found them and barked for help. Cash came to the rescue. He cleaned up the kittens and buried the mama. He fed those little guys with an eye dropper several times a day until they were able to eat on their own.

 

It was a miracle that all nine survived and you guessed it, I became their new mama. I protected them, kept them clean and did everything a good mama should do. It was a sight to see, when I’d take them for a walk or for that matter anywhere I’d go they would follow me all nine of them in a row.

 

It was a sad day when we had to give them away. But you can rest assure that Cash found them all good homes.

 

Our next move was from the ghettos to a suite in a down town hotel only this time there was three of us Cash, his lady friend and me. This was the first time I that I had to share Cashes affections and it made me a little jealous. Her name was Julie and she treated me nice so I had to except her that’s all there was to it. Cash called us the Misfits. “The Three Misfits.”

 

I guess Cash could tell that I was a little jealous because one day when there was just the two of us he told me that he loved only I and that no one could ever take my place. This made me happy and I never was jealous again.

 

Cash worked as a bartender during the day and was a bouncer at night but he always kept me with him, which was real nice, but I’d have to be quiet and stay out of sight.

 

Sometimes early in the morning about three or four we’d go for a walk around the city and see the sights. These were the good times; he’d talk to me and share his most inner thoughts.

 

Julie wasn’t with us for very long. I heard that she was shot, but I’m not too sure, all I know is one night she left and we didn’t see her again.

 

We lived in the hotel for almost two years. I remember one night Cash said come on Lady we’re moving I can’t take this life anymore. This time we moved into a big old house that needed a lot of fixing up. My master was the fixer upper.

 

I loved the place because it had a great big yard and I could run around and play most every day. This is where I met my Uncle Willy; he was a real great guy. He used to draw pictures all the time. He even drew a picture of me and painted it up real pretty.

 

Things were peaceful and calm for a couple weeks until Cashes old buddies started coming around. All of a sudden it was party city again just like it was when we lived out on 64 State.

 

Cash was getting bad; he was sick all of the time. If he didn’t have alcohol around he would shake and throw up and see things that weren’t there.

 

I knew he needed help but what could I do? Sometimes I even thought he was going to die.

 

If you think dogs don’t pray let me tell you that you’re wrong. I prayed for my master Cash all of the time.

 

Finally one day he grabbed his chest and fell to the floor. I thought I’d lost him forever when someone burst through the door. It was Tami, Cashes daughter; she took complete control, called an ambulance and had him rushed to the hospital. The doctors said that he would have died if she hadn’t found him and did what she did.

 

All I know is my prayers were answered that day in more ways than one. Cash was alive; he’d survived a heart attack and 10 years of drunkenness.

 

He swore to almighty that he’d never touch another drink as long as he lived and as far as I know he never did.

 

For as long as I’d lived with Cash his life had been without direction. I remember one night, when he was talking to me, he said; “Lady sweet Lady for ten years I’ve been dead. I’ve come back to the living and I’ve got to make amends, time is short but it’s got to be done and it’s all up to me.”

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