Ch 3: What Family Means
What Family Means (to Some)
copyright 2011 comidacomida
Family is a lot of different things to a lot of different people. What family means to some might not be what family means to others. How we feel about family when we're younger can change when we're older. There are folks out there who think that family is the best thing in this world... and then there are others who, like me, think that it usually just ends up causing stress and pain. Usually, when people get together and have different views on family, the more negative one wins out... but like in my case, that's only because I can be a fucking thick-headed moron.
The best example I can give of that would probably be the first time my mom called us in New York. Well... she didn't call US exactly-- she called me. My cell wasn't listed, but I'd be damned if I was gonna pay the phone company to take my name out of the phone book... since then I just stopped bothering with a home phone-- god damn vultures. Anyway, we were snuggling in the living room watching a movie on TV when the phone rang. Personally I hate the phone, so Jason was always the one answering. He glanced at me after only a second.
"It's your mom." he told me.
"Fuck you, monkey." I chided him... honest to god, I thought he was joking... I mean, why would my MOM call me after all that time?
"No... really." he said. Maybe it was his tone, or the way his eyebrows drew together above his eyes, but those two words were enough to turn my blood to ice and my heart almost stopped.
"Hang up." I told him.
Jason's lips grew tight and he took his hand away from the mouthpiece, "Here he is." and he shoved the phone in my direction.
"What the fu--?" I began, but took the phone. I looked down at it, thinking at that time that I'd rather have had a paw full of puke for as much as I was interested in raising the phone to my head. One quick thumb-pad later, and the phone was off. "What the fuck?" I finished my earlier objection.
"She wanted to talk to you, JD!" Jason noted, not even trying to hide the fact that he was not happy with me hanging up.
"I didn't want to talk to her."
"You don't even know what she wanted!" he objected.
"I know her-- it wouldn't have been anything I wanted to hear about." I answered.
"Maybe it's important! She might be dying, or she--"
"Alright... THAT I wouldn't mind hearing." I interrupted, and handed the phone back. I felt a little dark cloud begin to form over my head. Jason always got that way when our old life in California came up for discussion-- he liked to look back and find good times to discuss and I just wanted to forget anything that came before him.
"JD, you ASS... she went to the trouble of finding your number!" he said. I didn't really like the tone he chose-- I wasn't some pup to scold.
"Then she wasted her energy." I shrugged, looking back to the TV.
Jason let out a sharp breath and stood up, "I have no idea why--" but he couldn't finish his holier-than-thou speech because the phone rang again. He answered again, "Hello?" I looked back to the TV as he said, "No, I'm sorry. I know." he glanced at me, "No... I think he's being that way on purpose." That comment made me scowl. "Alright... no... I understand. Okay... let me get a piece of paper." and he walked off into the kitchen. I heard him shuffling around in the drawers, "Alright... ready."
I couldn't help but perk my ears a little as the conversation continued, "That's 310, right?" followed by writing, "Okay... got it." followed by some silence. He finally spoke up again, "Okay... I'll pass the message along, and I'll have your number somewhere he can get it if he stops being bull-headed." I could imagine him glaring at the back of my head. "Yes, ma'am... I'll let him know. Yes... no... yes..." the exchange continued on for several more single words from him, "Alright..." I could tell Jason was using the word in closing by his tone, "Yea... again, I'm sorry about that. Okay... you too... bye." and FINALLY the sound of the phone call ending.
"Have a nice chat?" I asked sourly. I remember hoping he'd realize just how much I didn't appreciate her having anything to do with me.
"Yes, actually." he answered, much colder than I'd have expected for someone about to get told-off, "but that should have been YOUR conversation, not mine."
"You're obviously the one who wanted to talk to her... not me." I countered, turning around on the sofa to face him.
"She wants to get in touch with you." he explained, "It sounds like she's trying to turn things around and make a connection."
"Good for her," I said, "and I'm not buying it."
"She's your mom." he countered.
"And a lousy one."
"Why are you so afraid of giving her a chance?" he asked. I could tell he was going to press the issue, but I wasn't in any mood to discuss it.
"Because she's already fucked up enough times that it's not worth it." I answered without a moment's hesitation, standing up to face him.
"Family is ALWAYS worth it." Jason countered.
"If that's the case, why not give YOUR mom a call?" the words were out of my muzzle before I could shut it. Jason stopped the discussion immediately; I could tell that my words did their job... I did something I never wanted to do: I hurt him. Bad. See... the thing is, I chose to disown my mom... Jason was a different story.
Jason's parents cared about the impression people had of them. Their son being a host for a Burb-Dog friendly TV show was a pretty bad thing in their eyes-- even worse, he was open about being in a relationship with a Dog... and a MALE Dog at that. So they disowned him... the fucktards. They didn't know what they were giving up. But me and my big muzzle brought all that up and threw it in his face. Nothing like telling the love of your life 'Look at what being with me cost ya.'.
He remained still, mouth completely frozen in a half-open gape. A wet shimmer came to his eyes and he turned away. My anger deflated immediately, and I felt my ears drop. I took a step forward and held out a paw, but he quickly shrugged me off and walked out of the room. Sometimes I get a reminder that, for as hard as I try, the moment I stop trying I'm still just a thug... and believe me, that hurts... but not as much as I realized I hurt Jason.
"FUCK!" I barked, kicking the armchair next to me. I yelped when I felt one of the wooden boards in it break and limped around until the stinging ache in my foot stopped... unfortunately that wasn't the pain I wanted to go away. You ever get that feeling that you screwed up royally and hoped more than anything that there was a way to rewind and try things again? Kinda like that "Groundhog Day" movie-- you wake up and the day is all fresh and new and not fucked-up. Yea... well unfortunately real life doesn't give you those kind of chances and I had to deal with the results of my stupidity.
Out of everyone in the world Jason is the person who means the most to me. He's everything that makes life worth living, and anytime I think about him being hurt it makes my teeth grind worse than claws on a chalkboard... only that time I was the reason he was hurting. After he walked out of the room it was like a piece of me being cut out of my chest-- I had this huge opening full of nothing but emptiness. Well... emptiness and self-loathing. I took his relationship with me and reminded him of everything he lost by being with me... now tell me that doesn't make me a bad Dog?
I wasn't happy with that... not at all. I wanted to do something but I didn't know what. I already did too much at that point... I'm a fucking hot-headed terrier that can't deal with an argument like a big dog-- I didn't pull any punches. Jason always told people that words are worse than fists because they cut deeper and leave wounds that don't go heal. I knew I'd never hit my Human, so why did I say what I said? I've always had a problem with keeping my muzzle shut, but I don't think it ever caused as much trouble as it did that night.
I wanted to go flop down on the couch and just close my eyes and pretend that there wasn't anything wrong... I wanted to let it all blow over and wait for things to get better. I wanted to do a lot of things that wouldn't have helped, but what I knew was that I HAD TO do something to make things better. Now... if you know me you know that I'm really good at causing problems, but I know jack shit about fixing em. Still, I screwed up big and I knew that leaving it that way was NOT okay.
That walk down the hallway was unnaturally long... it was like going from one end of a football field to the other, even though it was MAYBE ten feet. The door to our room was open a little and I didn't fail to hear the sound of papers shuffling. I knew, even before I bothered opening the door, that Jason had got into one of the drawers in his nightstand. My human kept a lot of his personal stuff in there, including pictures of his family.
Now, call me stupid, but I always thought that keeping pictures of things that hurt you was a dumb idea... but even a thug like me can learn a thing or two. See... the way Jason explained it to me is that pictures aren't always so much about memories of events or people as they are about recalling the good parts attached to your past. Eventually the memories tied to the picture might not even be related to the picture itself.
He does a lot better job of explaining it, I guess... but what I mean is that if you look at a picture when everyone's smiling, if you put your mind to it you can remember what was worth smiling about, and not the parts of life back then that were fucked up. It even works sometimes when I try it... but it's like a meditation or something for him. I stopped on the opposite side of the bed and looked over his shoulder; he was looking at a picture of his mom and dad and him at Disneyland. There was that castle-thing in the background and he had one of those Mickey Mouse ear hats on. I cringed when a teardrop landed on the photo.
"This photo's from '96." he said, not bothering to look over his shoulder, "It was to celebrate my birthday, even though it was a few months late." he explained, "They wanted to wait for summer vacation because missing school wouldn't have looked good."
"I've never been to Disneyland." I answered flatly. I really didn't know what to say.
"They took me because every family should go to Disneyland at least once." he noted, as if he didn't hear what I said, which was probably for the best, I guess since I hadn't put any real thought into it. "I had fun." he chuckled, another tear added on the photo next to the first.
"That's what birthdays are supposed to be about, right?" I asked, still standing next to the bed like a lumbering oaf. I didn't know what to say or what to do, so I really didn't do anything.
"Yea..." he said softly, "That's what birthdays are supposed to be about." he set the photo on the nightstand and turned to regard me, "I was happy even though that wasn't what they were trying to accomplish... crazy how things work out sometimes, huh?" he turned to look at me, eyes still wet.
"You mean having fun even when the whole purpose is just for show?" I asked. It seemed kinda strange to me, but in a way it made sense. "In almost all of my pup-pictures I smiled because people told me to." I admitted, still standing beside the bed.
"Same for a lot of mine." he agreed, "but not this one." he sighed, looking to the picture again, "It's not always about the reasons why people do things-- sometimes we remember the end result that much more." he glanced up to me, "I was really happy... and without my family I never would have been there. Now tell me that isn't funny... at least a little."
I moved over and sat on the bed next to him, covering one of his hands with my paw. His hand felt small... almost fragile-- I never thought of him as fragile. It shook faintly in my palm and I had to blink several times to keep my eyes from getting misty-- if he was fragile, I knew it was because of me. "Yea... funny..." I agreed.
"Yea... funny..." he echoed, looking down at my paw on his hand. He threaded his fingers up through mine before raising his gaze to meet my eyes, "JD... I--"
"I'm sorry, Jay... I'm really REALLY sorry." I interrupted, and I lost the fight with my eyes. I reached up and wiped them with my spare paw, "I shouldn't have been angry at you for trying to help... I shouldn't have gotten mad... I shouldn't have said-- well... I'm sorry. I didn't do you right. You're worth more than that and I'm an ass and a jerk and I can't control my muzzle when I should and--"
"I'm sorry too." he interrupted me, and it was a GOOD interruption since it shut me right up. He filled the silence just fine though, "I shouldn't push you to talk with your mom. I know that you two have your own things to deal with and I let my own issues get in the way of seeing that."
"I didn't mean to hurt you." I admitted.
"I wasn't trying to badger you." he explained, "I just want to see you happy."
"I know." I answered, and gave his arm a gentle tug toward me. He took the hint and, when he hugged me tight, the next thing I knew there was this HUGE wave of calm settling all around us. I didn't want Jason hurting-- I wanted to help him and protect him and care for him. He wanted me to be happy... that alone was enough reason for me to be happy. I wanted him to be happy too.
"Do you really think I should talk to her?" I asked, softly rubbing his back through his shirt.
"That's not my decision." he admitted, resting his head under my muzzle, "But it might help with closure."
I let out a sigh, letting the warmth of his body resting against mine bring me that much more peace... that, and the sense of oneness that only comes after resolving a conflict that threatens to create two incomplete halves out of a happy whole. (No... I'm not a damn poet... I really mean that. If you haven't had any earth-shattering moments in your relationship then you don't know what I mean... that, and you're either a fucking liar, or one of you is really unhappy but not willing to admit it).
"Are you alright?" he asked softly.
I closed my eyes and gave him a firm hug, "I'll call tomorrow and see what she wants."
"And you'll be polite?" he asked. I didn't need to look down know that he had his be-a-good-dog grin plastered across his face.
"I'll try." I promised, and put that thought away for another time-- at that point I was just content to hold my Jason against me... after all, when it comes to family, I'll always think of him as the closest I have.