Cleaning Up After The Dog
Alan D Harris
It was just another Sunday in September when the 10 year old boy was dropped off at his grandpa’s house so that they could keep each other company for awhile.
“Hey, where’s my card?” his grandpa asked as the two of them sat across from each other at the dining room table. The old man’s house had been quiet up until then. The television was turned off. The young boy kept looking over at the blank screen feeling as though the TV was staring back from the living room.
“What card?” asked the boy.
“My Grandparents’ Day card!”
“I never heard of Grandparents’ Day.”
“It’s a Hallmark holiday. If you’re lucky you’ll have another shot at it next year.”
“When is Grandkids’ Day?”
The old man sneered and answered, “Every day is Grandkids’ Day.”
The boy thought about Grandparents’ Day. He supposed that not everybody has a grandparent. Being an optimistic child, he could appreciate the fact that if you didn’t have a living grandparent, you wouldn’t have to buy a card on Grandparents’ Day. Too bad, he thought, for those kids at his school who had to buy more than one. The boy considered himself lucky enough to only have disappointed one old person looking for a card that hadn’t been bought.
But the boy had questions, and not wanting to ask his grandpa any more than he had to, the child looked over at the television and simply wished that it would turn itself on and answer a few questions that he has always kept to himself.
“What are you thinking about?” his grandpa asked.
The boy took a moment to think about all the questions he’d like to ask. He had more than one. He wasn’t sure where to start.
“Come on. We ain't going to live forever. What’s your damn question?”
The boy turned away from the TV, looked into his grandpa’s glass eye and asked, “Did you love Grandma?”
“Of course I did,” his grandpa snapped back. “What kind of knucklehead question is that?”
The boy wasn’t sure what kind of question it was, so he didn’t answer.
“Of course I loved her!”
“What happened?” the boy asked. He wasn’t sure what kind of question that was either.
“We did everything together,” his grandpa replied.
“Who? You and Grandma?”
The old man just kept talking. “That day we went to the dentist together.”
“What day?”
“After the dentist we went to the store and she helped me pick out a pair of tennis shoes,” his grandpa said as he continued to remember.
The old man’s glass eye stared into the television screen. The TV was still turned off, but it was like they were both watching it, watching some story unfold in the darkness of the black screen.
“She asked me, What’s on TV tonight?”
“What was on?” the boy asked.
“Jeopardy,” he answered. “We loved that show,” Grandpa said as he tilted his head at the television. That made the boy stare closely at the television just to make sure that it was still off. At first, the child was startled to see something move, but it was only their reflections.
The old man put his hands together like he was about to say a prayer. “So she got up and announced, I’m going to clean up after the dog before the show starts.”
“You guys had a dog?”
“It’s hard to explain. Your grandmother enjoyed cleaning up…after the dog… after me...after everything and everybody. She would have cleaned up after you, too. She was just like that. It made her feel useful.”
The boy smiled as he thought about his grandma walking around the backyard with a shovel, cleaning up after the dog—and Grandpa.
“I don't feel much useful anymore,” the old man muttered to himself as he turned away from the TV.
“What happened next?”
The grandpa's glass eye almost blinked as he turned back toward the television. “I waited for her. Your grandmother missed the start of the show. Then the next thing I heard was the neighbors pounding on my door. They found her lying on the ground near her garden.”
“You guys had a garden?”
“She wasn’t even sick,” the grandpa replied, shaking his head.
The boy kept listening, but turned back to the TV. The blank, dark screen helped the child focus on the past…Grandpa’s past...his own past.
“It was an aneurism,” Grandpa explained. The boy wasn’t sure what an aneurism was. There was a lot he didn’t know. He was surprised to hear that they had a dog as well as a garden. Along with his grandma, the old woman’s garden and their dog were all gone now. The boy decided to let it be and continued to listen as his grandpa remembered things that had never been said until now.
“When she told me that she was going to clean up after the dog,” the old man said, “I had no idea, no idea at all that I was listening to her final words.”
The boy stared at his grandpa’s face. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw a tear fall from a glass eye.
“Final words will sneak up on you,” his grandpa said with a sad smile.
“Like an aneurism,” asked the boy?
“Absolutely,” his grandpa replied. “Absolutely.”
It was just another Sunday in September when the 10 year old boy was dropped off at his grandpa’s house so that they could keep each other company for awhile.
“Hey, where’s my card?” his grandpa asked as the two of them sat across from each other at the dining room table. The old man’s house had been quiet up until then. The television was turned off. The young boy kept looking over at the blank screen feeling as though the TV was staring back from the living room.
“What card?” asked the boy.
“My Grandparents’ Day card!”
“I never heard of Grandparents’ Day.”
“It’s a Hallmark holiday. If you’re lucky you’ll have another shot at it next year.”
“When is Grandkids’ Day?”
The old man sneered and answered, “Every day is Grandkids’ Day.”
The boy thought about Grandparents’ Day. He supposed that not everybody has a grandparent. Being an optimistic child, he could appreciate the fact that if you didn’t have a living grandparent, you wouldn’t have to buy a card on Grandparents’ Day. Too bad, he thought, for those kids at his school who had to buy more than one. The boy considered himself lucky enough to only have disappointed one old person looking for a card that hadn’t been bought.
But the boy had questions, and not wanting to ask his grandpa any more than he had to, the child looked over at the television and simply wished that it would turn itself on and answer a few questions that he has always kept to himself.
“What are you thinking about?” his grandpa asked.
The boy took a moment to think about all the questions he’d like to ask. He had more than one. He wasn’t sure where to start.
“Come on. We ain't going to live forever. What’s your damn question?”
The boy turned away from the TV, looked into his grandpa’s glass eye and asked, “Did you love Grandma?”
“Of course I did,” his grandpa snapped back. “What kind of knucklehead question is that?”
The boy wasn’t sure what kind of question it was, so he didn’t answer.
“Of course I loved her!”
“What happened?” the boy asked. He wasn’t sure what kind of question that was either.
“We did everything together,” his grandpa replied.
“Who? You and Grandma?”
The old man just kept talking. “That day we went to the dentist together.”
“What day?”
“After the dentist we went to the store and she helped me pick out a pair of tennis shoes,” his grandpa said as he continued to remember.
The old man’s glass eye stared into the television screen. The TV was still turned off, but it was like they were both watching it, watching some story unfold in the darkness of the black screen.
“She asked me, What’s on TV tonight?”
“What was on?” the boy asked.
“Jeopardy,” he answered. “We loved that show,” Grandpa said as he tilted his head at the television. That made the boy stare closely at the television just to make sure that it was still off. At first, the child was startled to see something move, but it was only their reflections.
The old man put his hands together like he was about to say a prayer. “So she got up and announced, I’m going to clean up after the dog before the show starts.”
“You guys had a dog?”
“It’s hard to explain. Your grandmother enjoyed cleaning up…after the dog… after me...after everything and everybody. She would have cleaned up after you, too. She was just like that. It made her feel useful.”
The boy smiled as he thought about his grandma walking around the backyard with a shovel, cleaning up after the dog—and Grandpa.
“I don't feel much useful anymore,” the old man muttered to himself as he turned away from the TV.
“What happened next?”
The grandpa's glass eye almost blinked as he turned back toward the television. “I waited for her. Your grandmother missed the start of the show. Then the next thing I heard was the neighbors pounding on my door. They found her lying on the ground near her garden.”
“You guys had a garden?”
“She wasn’t even sick,” the grandpa replied, shaking his head.
The boy kept listening, but turned back to the TV. The blank, dark screen helped the child focus on the past…Grandpa’s past...his own past.
“It was an aneurism,” Grandpa explained. The boy wasn’t sure what an aneurism was. There was a lot he didn’t know. He was surprised to hear that they had a dog as well as a garden. Along with his grandma, the old woman’s garden and their dog were all gone now. The boy decided to let it be and continued to listen as his grandpa remembered things that had never been said until now.
“When she told me that she was going to clean up after the dog,” the old man said, “I had no idea, no idea at all that I was listening to her final words.”
The boy stared at his grandpa’s face. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw a tear fall from a glass eye.
“Final words will sneak up on you,” his grandpa said with a sad smile.
“Like an aneurism,” asked the boy?
“Absolutely,” his grandpa replied. “Absolutely.”