When I got married I inherited an instant family — that would be my wife, of course, and her young daughters from a previous situation.
Now look, I've been through a lot in my life. I survived my reservation years without wasting any stupid tourists or dying of alcoholism. I've been shot at, stabbed, beaten and jailed. I survived my American Indian Movement days, I survived the “music” of the 80s and I even survived Y2K.
As an artist, I've survived a life of relative obscurity and living below the poverty level.
But nothing — NOTHING — that I've survived and endured in my long life could've prepared me for living in a house full of females. The cat and I are the only males in the house, and we bonded early. His is the only bathroom I have access to.
Let me introduce you to the women in my life that I love so dearly: There's my wife, Janet (age not available), also known as “She who defies age, authority, and reason.” There's daughter No. 1, Liza (almost 13 years old, God help us), also known as “She who defies gravity, explanation, and who WILL be heard throughout the known universe.” Daughter No. 2, Frances (age 10), AKA “She who will be heard at even greater decibel levels.”
And then there's Lily (age 5 or 6), AKA “She who must chew everything to bits, dig holes in the yard, drink from the toilet and pee uncontrollably.”
Household pet
As you may or may not have guessed, Lily is the puppy of the household, and she's only 5 or 6 in DOG years — about 10 or 11 months in people time.
Lily is a golden lab mixed with something else — something alien, I think — probably Ewok from the forest moon of Endor, which would explain the short, furry, big-eyed, barks-with-a-lisp thing.
She also has a little bit of miracle in her. Lily was run down by a teenage driver when she was only about 4 months old, hit by both front and rear tires of the car. She lay in the street with her head smashed in and right side of her body flattened. She was horribly battered and bloody when Janet scooped her up in her arms. That's where Lily should've died.
But somehow she survived.
Now, she is the happiest, smilingest, wiggliest and slobberiest dog I've ever seen. She ain't the sharpest ax in the shed, but I guess I wouldn't be either if I'd been run over by a car as a baby, instead of just dropped on my head.
And despite the scars of the accident still visible around her right eye and cheek, she's quite sleek and quite lovely.
Puppy love
Her beauty has not gone unnoticed, either. Bruno, the Chocolate Lab, AKA “He who must wear a lampshade around his neck,” has taken a sudden manly interest in our fair Lily. You might say it's one very lop-sided case of puppy love.
I'm not sure what's up with the lamp-shade thing. Does he get better reception of “The Dog Channel” that way? Is this just something he wears to get chicks, or is he hoping for a signal from the mother ship?
Whatever it is, he's not gonna score with our Lily. I've taken Lily to the vet today to have the flower of her emerging womanhood nipped in the bud. With everything we've survived in our lives, the last thing Lily and I need is a bunch of little alien puppies runnin' around here.
And with MY luck, every last one of 'em would be female.
Originally published Sept. 1, 2001
Copyright © The Billings Gazette, a division of Lee Enterprises.
John Potter, an Ojibwe from Wisconsin, is a gifted artist, illustrator and writer. After more than 20 years as an editorial artist and columnist with the Billings Gazette (Billings, Mont.), he now spends his full time and energy on his oils, painting the landscapes of the West that he loves the most. His work can be seen online at www.lonewolfgallery.com.
