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“Yeah. My dog is in your yard.”
“What?”
“My dog. She’s in your yard.”
Fufi walked up and stood between us.
“Fufi, come!” I said. “Let’s go!”
This kid looked at Fufi and called her by some other stupid name, Spotty or some
bullshit like that.
“Spotty, go back inside the house.”
“Whoa, whoa,” I said. “Spotty? That’s Fufi!”
“No, that’s my dog, Spotty.”
“No, that’s Fufi, my friend.”
“No, this is Spotty.”
“How could this be Spotty? She doesn’t even have spots. You don’t know what you’re
talking about.”
“This is Spotty!”
“Fufi!”
“Spotty!”
“Fufi!”
Of course, since Fufi was deaf she didn’t respond to “Spotty” or “Fufi.” She just stood
there. I started cursing the kid out.
“Give me back my dog!”
“I don’t know who you are,” he said, “but you better get out of here.”
Then he went into the house and got his mom and she came out.
“What do you want?” she said.
“That’s my dog!”
“This is our dog. Go away.”
I started crying. “Why are you stealing my dog?!” I turned to Fufi and begged her. “Fufi,
why are you doing this to me?! Why, Fufi?! Why?!” I called to her. I begged her to come. Fufi
was deaf to my pleas. And everything else.
I jumped onto my bike and raced home, tears running down my face. I loved Fufi so
much. To see her with another boy, acting like she didn’t know me, after I raised her, after all
the nights we spent together. I was heartbroken.
That evening Fufi didn’t come home. Because the other family thought I was coming to
steal their dog, they had decided to lock her inside, so she couldn’t make it back the way she
normally did to wait for us outside the fence. My mom got home from work. I was in tears. I
told her Fufi had been kidnapped. We went back to the house. My mom rang the bell and
confronted the mom.
“Look, this is our dog.”
This lady lied to my mom’s face. “This is not your dog. We bought this dog.”
“You didn’t buy the dog. It’s our dog.”