Let it go

As much as some things get under our skin, there is always a time to let it go and realize it just doesn’t matter anymore. For some it is a past love, for others a road not taken, for my Grandmother it was something else entirely.

My father and stepmother got a cute little dog named Andy. He was a toy Pomeranian, basically a little ball of fuzz that sort of acted like a dog.

My step mom saw it in the pet store and fell in love. She decided on the spot that my father needed a dog.

I happened to be visiting my grandmother and mentioned this dog to her and commented how cute Andy was.

My grandmother at the time was in her 80’s. She was a nurse for a long time, lived on a farm in Pennsylvania and was a very down to earth person. I expected her to make a comment along the lines of “yes he is cute, but not very practical”, so I was surprised when she came out with “I hate that damn dog”.

“How can you hate Andy? He’s a little fuzz ball and just runs around playing with toys. He doesn’t bite, he’s house trained, what’s up”? I asked.

“I hate all those damn dogs like that” she snapped back.

“OK. I’ll bite. Why?” I asked, knowing there was a good story to go along with this. She was 80, and always had good stories.

“Well when we were kids, we were one of the first people in town to have a car. My father loved that car and we would always drive around town in it. We had a dog like that Andy, called Sparky and when Pa drove the car Sparky got to sit in the front seat and all us kids had to sit in the rumble seat in the back”.

“For crying out loud Gram that was 70 years ago, time to let it go”. I laughed.

She didn’t listen of course and went to her grave hating Pomeranians but what the heck I guess when I’m 80 I can be set in my ways too.