“She’s Alive, Franco!”


Jake loved his old dog, Heidi, as much as I loved Sunday the Cat. N was a new friend with whom I was trying to share some benefits. I was photographing her before we went out for dinner.

The phone rang. It was Jake crying drunk and slurring, “We had to put Heidi down today, Franco – she was suffering so much. It’s killing me! A few of us are at the bar having a drink to her memory; I brought in some pictures. Can you come over?”

N stayed in the apartment as I went to Heidi’s “Memorial”. Of course Jake was a mess telling Heidi stories and showing her pictures. I bought a round or two and left in about an hour.

After a long, enjoyable dinner, N and I came back and the answer machine light was flashing. I hit ‘play’ and immediately heard a very drunken Jake.

“Franco! HEIDI’S ALIVE! She’s alive, Franco! What a dog! Franco – HEIDI’S ALIVE!” Click. N and I stared at each other. Uh-oh. Seemed Jake took the 10:10 to Crazyville. It was too late to call back but too weird not to. Jake’s wife answered. “He’s passed out, Franco.” Then she told me the ‘real’ story. It wasn’t even half as good as the one I imagined – they never are.

It seems Jake and Wife took Heidi to the vet’s to be put down. Both were distraught but Jake was worse – much worse. So Wife told him to say good-bye and she would stay with Heidi. Jake left – she broke down. Vet decided neither was ready yet and he gave the dog something to make her more comfortable for a few days. When Wife brought Heidi home, Jake wasn’t there so she waited and fell asleep.

Reality is so dull. That’s why they invented drugs and alcohol.



One Response to ““She’s Alive, Franco!””

  1. amy says:

    Awesome Story.

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