Michel: Gucci’s mortality jumps mom to wrong conclusions

Published 12:05 am Saturday, June 27, 2015

Every time I think of myself as a positive, optimistic person, a scene from the past pops my little bubble. This time, I was reminded of a text I sent to our vet.

Gucci, the maltipoo my 20-year-old daughter Victoria got when she was 8, stayed at the vet’s office overnight for observation. In the morning I sent this message to Dr. Duhon: “Should I bring Victoria when I pick up Gucci? Is it serious and will she have a decision to make? Pardon my melodrama.”

She assured me Gucci was fine, nothing life-threatening, so I didn’t call Victoria. A few weeks later, the dog had difficulty walking and I brought her back to the vet. After two days and a complete recovery, I called Victoria, who was in the middle of exams, to tell her what had happened.

She was crying when she answered the phone.

When I asked her what was wrong, I understood her to say, “I’m hot and sweaty.”

“Are you at the gym?” I asked.

“No! Why would you say that? Do you think I should exercise more?”

I ignored her question and moved on. “Did you just cut your grass?”

“No! Something else I need to do!”

“Then why are you hot and sweaty? And crying?”

“I didn’t say I was hot and sweaty, I said, ‘I hate studying!’”

I hung up the phone without telling her about her dog.

My daughter came home when the semester ended. Although Gucci was fine at this point, I needed to know what to do if something else happened. I asked Victoria to join me in the living room. “We have to talk,” I began.

“You and Dad are getting a divorce,” she said.

“No! Why would you say that?”

“Someone died? Who’s sick? What happened?” she said, without giving me a chance to explain.

“I’ve lied to you. I have always told you that Gucci will never die, but she will.” Victoria nodded as though she had always known the truth. “One day, I don’t know when, she will die. When that day comes, when do you want me to tell you?”

“Immediately,” she replied. “Don’t wait one second. I want to know everything.”

“Even if it’s during exams?” I asked.

“Especially during exams. Did I ever mention how much I hate to study?”

After that exhausting conversation, I realized that if jumping to conclusions was an aerobic exercise, Victoria and I could cancel our gym memberships.

Ronny Michel may be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com.