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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Friendship & Family
- Subject: Friends / Friendship
- Published: 08/20/2020
A Dog for Sidney
Born 1945, M, from Farmersburg, United States.jpeg)
A Dog for Sidney
Until she was eight, Sidney Garrett’s life was perfect. At least she thought so. Her mother Marilyn didn’t have to work, so was always there when Sidney came home from school. Under Marilyn’s patient watch, Sidney was learning to cook and keep her room neat, plus help with the household chores. Once a week, mother and daughter would have what they called “girls’ night out.” They never missed unless the weather was too bad. They would go shopping, eat at a nice restaurant, and go to a movie. At the end of the evening, Sidney’s father would greet them at the door and ask about their time together. Then they would gather in the kitchen for ice cream and to show him Sidney’s new outfit. Sidney loved her father, but always cherished those special times with her mother.
A few days after her eighth birthday, upon arriving home from school, Sidney was surprised to see her father’s truck in the driveway. As she entered the kitchen, her parents looked at her dolefully. Her mother’s eyes were red and puffy. Tears coursed down her father’s cheeks. Sidney was sad to see her mother upset, but her father’s tears frightened her. She didn’t remember ever seeing him cry.
“Sidney, come sit down,” her mother said softly. “We have something to tell you.”
Sidney’s father stood up from his chair and turned away. Arms outstretched, he leaned on his palms against the refrigerator and hung his head. Trembling, Sidney took his seat and faced her mother.
Marilyn Garrett took her daughter’s hands in hers. “I have never lied or hidden the truth from you and I’m not going to start now.” She took a deep breath. “The cancer has spread.”
Sidney suddenly felt chilled. She couldn’t breathe. Tears sprang from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “They…they’re going to operate, right?”
“No, honey, they can’t. It’s too late.”
“No! No! NO!” Wrenching her hands away, Sidney ran screaming from the kitchen. Racing up the stairs, she ran into her room, slammed the door, threw herself on the bed and sobbed. Her mother, her best friend, was going to die. No hope, no cure. Everything that had been so important just an hour ago now meant nothing. She drifted into a fitful sleep rife with nightmares.
The soft knock on Sidney’s door was followed by her mother’s gentle voice. “Sidney, honey, dinner’s ready.” Seeing her standing in the doorway, Sidney tried to burn her mother’s image into her mind so she could never forget it. Pushing herself upon her elbows, the tears returned and her voice cracked. “I’m not hungry.”
“Oh, honey.” Marilyn crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “I know. It’s going to be hard for all of us. But God will see us through.”
Sidney’s breath caught in a fresh rush of tears. She turned on her back and put her hand over her eyes. “If God’s so all powerful, why doesn’t He heal you?”
Her mother’s expression was soft, almost angelic. “I don’t know, Sidney. He has a reason and a purpose for each of our lives.” She gathered her weeping daughter into her arms. When the tears stopped, they walked arm-in-arm down the stairs.
The next two months were tragic for Sidney. Her mother was either going into the hospital or just coming home. At the beginning of the third month she came home for the last time. Never a robust woman, she had lost half her weight.
One afternoon Sidney came home to find a strange woman sitting in the slipper chair beside her mother’s bed.
“Hi, sweetheart. This is Mrs. Janis. She’s going to be helping us out.”
Sidney stared at the woman. Mrs. Janis smiled at her. She stood up and held out her hand. “Hello, Sidney. Your mother has told me a lot about you.”
Sidney had known this was coming. Her best friend, Susan, lost her mother two summers ago. She told Sidney these people only showed up at the end. Sidney backed away.“You’re from hospice, aren’t you?”
“I’m only here to help, honey.”
“Don’t call me honey. Don’t talk to me!” Sidney looked at her mother’s pale, shocked face, heard her labored breathing. She couldn’t even get out of bed. Her mother was dying, and that outburst would probably hasten it. Ashamed and overwhelmed with grief, Sidney turned and ran from the room. Mrs. Janis didn’t follow. She was wise enough to know the girl would have to work this out on her own.
Normally Sidney loved following the animal trails in the woods that bordered her parents’ property. Today she wasn’t even aware of the creek or the late spring wildflowers. Last year she had gone with her parents to her great aunt’s funeral. It was hardly a happy occasion, but she soon forgot it. Now all she could see through the blur of tears was her mother’s coffin being lowered into the ground. Sidney wanted to die along with her.
Oblivious to the briar scratches on her legs, she stumbled on and suddenly found herself on the Nobles’ property. In the center of the 10-acre tract on the other side of the woods was a two-story farmhouse that had been abandoned for years. Making her way through the overgrown yard, Sidney sat on the front porch steps, crossed her arms over her knees, buried her face and wept.
He heard her from inside as he worked stripping drywall. At 65, this type of labor was the last thing Vance Turnbull saw himself doing. After 35 years teaching college students, he had been inching toward retirement. Then Gladys developed Alzheimer’s. Vance resigned and fought the fight with her, watching over her day and night, lovingly caring for her as she had for him throughout their married life.
She lost the last battle last year. The funeral was grueling, but Vance stayed by her side to the end. At the funeral home, mourners shook his hand or patted his back and told him how sorry they were. He held in his sorrow at the cemetery and on the numbingly solitary drive home. That night, sitting in the dark and deathly quiet living room, he dissolved in tears as the weight of losing her came crashing down.
Vance wasn’t sorry for Gladys. If there was a shred of joy to be found in his broken heart, it was that she was with the Lord. She was enjoying her new life in heaven, untouched by the disease that took her life. It occurred to Vance that he had lost the real Gladys long ago. When his weeping finally ended, he felt cleansed.
Over the next few months, it became clear to Vance that he could stay in their house no longer. He lived there with Gladys for 40 years, and she inhabited every inch of it. At first Vance found comfort in sensing her in every room, but as time wore on it grew steadily more depressing. Giving away the hospital bed didn’t help. Sleeping in the guest room only deepened his sorrow. There was nothing to do but move.
The house sold quickly. Wherever Vance went from there, it had to be in the country. He didn’t care what the place looked like. One evening during an internet search, he came across the farmhouse. He called the realtor the next morning. Yes, it was still available. Vance drove the hundred miles to see it. The house was in much worse shape than the photos depicted. The realtor explained that the pictures were taken two years earlier, right after the foreclosure.
Always the visionary, Vance saw the farmhouse for what it could be, not how it was. Estimating the cost of repairs and improvements, he made an offer far below what the bank was asking. They countered with one he could manage. Two weeks later, he moved in and began renovating. He cleaned out the master bedroom first, enough for it to be habitable. He set up a card table in the spare bedroom on which to place the coffeepot, hotplate and microwave. On the third night, he dedicated the house to the Lord and the memory of his beloved Gladys. Although Vance’s grief eased as the days and weeks passed, his dear wife lived on in his dreams. He wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Pulling down the stained drywall in the kitchen, Vance heard something and paused. Stepping to the window, he saw a little girl sitting on his back steps. She appeared to about eight or nine. Her blond hair was in a pigtail. She was crying. Not wanting to frighten her, Vance opened the door just a crack. Pushing his nose into the opening, Ramie forced his way out.
Sidney felt something warm and wet on her cheek. Startled, she raised her head and stared into Vance’s Sheltie’s soft brown eyes while the dog lapped at her tears with his scratchy tongue. “That’s Ramie,” a gravelly voice behind her said. “He can’t stand to see a lady cry.”
Sidney jumped up and brushed off the seat of her pants. “I’m… sorry,” she said, more embarrassed than frightened. “I didn’t know anyone lived here.”
Vance stepped out. Leaning on his cane, he eased down onto the wooden steps. Ramie snuggled up against the elderly man, who wrapped his arm around the grinning dog. His tongue lolling to the side, Ramie kept his eyes on Sidney.
Patting the dog, Vance gave the girl a sympathetic smile. “I just moved here last week.” Sidney’s eyes brightened a bit as she studied the old man. With the smile crinkling his face, his whitish-gray hair and slightly sad brown eyes, he looked like a kindly grandfather. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to meet my neighbors.” Vance held out his hand to Sidney’s one solemn shake. “My name is Vance and you’ve met Ramie.”
At the sound of his name, the dog jumped to his feet and went to the girl, wagging his tail and nuzzling her arm. Sidney let out a little giggle and rubbed his head. “I wish I had a dog,” she said wistfully. “We had one, but he died last summer. He was already old when I was born.” Her eyes welled up again.
“It’s hard to lose someone or something you love,” Vance said. “Ramie has been with me for six months now. He’s good to have around. Keeps me from getting too lonesome.”
“Don’t you have any family?” Sidney asked with childlike forthrightness.
“Ramie is my family now,” Vance answered, his face creased with sadness.
“Where’s your wife?” Sidney pressed, then wished she hadn’t as tears sprang to the elderly man’s eyes.
“She went to heaven.”
“My mom’s going to heaven,” Sidney said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I wish she wouldn’t.” With a loud sob, she bolted from the steps and ran into the woods. Hesitating only slightly, Ramie started to follow.
“Ramie! No, boy,” Vance said sharply. “She needs to be alone now.” He stared for a few moments at the tree line through which Sidney had fled, then took the dog inside and returned to his work.
Picking up the hammer, Vance swung it viciously at the drywall. “Ooooh, I hate you, Death,” he shouted as he yanked the claw through the crumbling sheetrock. “You take a loving wife and a little girl’s mother. You have no heart, no pity.” He swung the hammer again, obliterating what was left of the wall. He would feel it in the morning, but right now he didn’t care.
Halfway home, Sidney dropped onto a decaying log and wept until she had no more tears. She felt helpless. What could she do? Go home. She loved her mother; She would not let her go through this alone. As she came near the house, she saw a light in her mother’s bedroom. Straightening her shoulders and forcing braveness onto her face, Sidney entered the house.
Vance’s mind whirled with the memory of that last night at the hospital when Gladys breathed her last. With tears streaming endlessly down his face, he had held her hand, leaned over her and whispered, “I love, I love you, I love you.” The anguish of her funeral and burial came rushing back. He shuddered as his impulse to crawl into the casket and be buried with her overwhelmed him as it had that day. From out of nowhere came the same crushing loneliness that had followed him out of the cemetery.
Back home he had wandered through the rooms, feeling her inescapable presence everywhere. There in the knick-knacks she collected over the years. In the closet full of her clothes. He took the items she loved and stored them away. He emptied the closets and drawers and gave everything to Goodwill. With those last heartrending acts, he said a tearful goodbye to his Gladys. Now he would finish out his life as close to heaven as the little village of Barker, New York, could get him. This old farmhouse had seemed to beckon to him. Now he worked to make it his own.
Late that night, Vance stirred and laid his hand on the other side of the bed. She wasn’t there. He was glad he was alone so no one could see his tears. Roused from his sleep, Ramie whined and laid his head on Vance’s knee. Rumpling the dog’s coat, Vance whispered, “I’m never alone as long as you’re around.”
Switching off the radio beside the bed, Vance listened to the wind rustling through the trees. What a change from the city with its constant din of traffic and sirens. A stiff breeze blew through the open window, rattling the blinds. Rain was coming. That was fine with Vance. The roof on this house was sound, less than five years old. Getting up to close the window, Vance caught a glimpse of light through the swaying trees from what he thought must be Sidney’s house. He sighed. “Lord, be with her. Show me a way to comfort her and her family.”
Back in bed, Vance turned on his side and closed his eyes. Ramie circled a few times before lying down with his body against Vance’s back. Reaching down to pat him, the elderly widower whispered sleepily, “Thank you for being my friend.”
The next morning, as he tore away the drywall in the living room, Vance stopped in mid-swing. He looked at Ramie, who was lying across the doorway threshold watching him work. Now almost fully grown, the pup had been such a blessing to him. After his wife, Ramie was Vance’s best friend. When it became apparent that Gladys was dying, the dog would lie next to Vance each time he knelt in prayer. The night after the funeral, as he sat weeping in the living room, Vance could have sworn he saw tears in Ramie’s eyes.
“A puppy, that’s what Sidney needs,” Vance told his friend. “Not a grown dog like you, but a puppy that can grow with her and comfort her in her sorrow. Yup, that’s what she needs.” Ramie raised up on his haunches and cocked his head. How to convince the girl’s parents of that, Vance wasn’t sure. “I don’t even know them.” He told the dog. Ramie let out a little yip of agreement, bringing a smile to Vance’s lips.
Vance worked through the day, taking frequent breaks. By evening, the house was ready for the contractors. The place looked like a bomb hit it. Down to the studs, the morass of exposed wires, vents, two-by-fours and pipes presented a starkly uncomely appearance. The hardwood floors would be striking only after the old paint was removed and several coats of varnish applied. Vance shook his head. Why anyone would paint beautiful oak flooring battleship gray was beyond him.
After a supper of soup and a sandwich, Vance settled down to find a contractor. His first two calls went unanswered. Finally on the third, the man thanked him for thinking of his company, but explained it would be two to three months before he could get to the job. “I’m sorry, where did you say you live?”
“Out on Old Post Road,” Vance answered. “Don’t know why it’s called that.”
The man chuckled. “There used to be a big old concrete post down where the 7-Eleven is now. Been gone for years but the name stuck. Say, listen, there’s a guy who lives near you. Name’s Rick Garrett. He’s honest and does good work. You might be able to get him. May not be able to put in a full day, though.”
“Why is that?” Vance asked, pretty sure he knew the answer.
“His wife has cancer. Last I heard, they were going to bring in hospice. She hasn’t got long.”
Vance thanked the man and ended the call. He hesitated to call Sidney’s father. Just picturing the family’s misery ripped open his heart again. He thought of Gladys’s expenses from the doctors and hospital. Though their insurance paid most of the cost, he still ended up with a hefty bill. If he hadn’t saved for both of their final expenses, he would have been really hurting.
Punching in the number, Vance waited. By the fifth ring he was about to hit the end button.“Garrett Construction. How can I help you?”
“Yes, Mr. Garrett, this is Vance Turnbull. I purchased the house just down the road from you. I’ve been doing some renovations, but I’m afraid I’ve reached the limit of my expertise.”
“Yes. I saw that someone bought the place. It’s a good, solid piece of property.”
“You know the house then?”
“Sure. As you probably know, the house was vacant for years. But it’s structurally sound with a good roof and the siding is less than ten years old.”
“That’s what I understood from the realtor. It’s the interior that’s a mess. It looks like someone turned a whirling dervish loose inside it.”
Garret laughed. “Well, Mr. Turnbull, I’d like to help you. But I’m not taking on any long-term contracts now.”
“I understand. One of the other contractors I spoke with explained your situation. I lost my wife just recently.”
“Then you know what my family is going through,” Rick Garrett said, his voice softening.
“To a certain extent. My wife had Alzheimer’s. She wasn’t aware of what was going on around her for a long time.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been very difficult for both of you.”
“It was. However, she’s in heaven now, free of the disease. Mr. Garrett–”
“Call me Rick, please.”
“Rick, forgive me for being forward. But I know how medical expenses can eat up your income. Because of the proximity of our homes, I’d like to propose that you work on your own schedule. When you need to be with your wife and family, there won’t be any problem with the delay on my part. In other words, work when you can. Whether it’s for an hour or five, I’d be very grateful.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Turnbull.”
“Vance.”
“Vance. Can you give me a day to think about it?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you. I’ll call you around this time tomorrow. Good night, sir.”
Sidney spent every spare minute with her mother. She became Mrs. Janis’s best helper. As Marilyn grew weaker, Sidney helped feed her, assisted with changing her bedding, read to her, and prayed with her.
After talking it over with Marilyn, Rick decided to take Vance’s job. The first day he worked for two hours, taking only a short break to drive home and check on her. One morning in June, Rick left on a home check and didn’t return. Later that day he called to tell Vance that Marilyn was gone. She passed away just before noon with Rick and Sidney by her side. Rick would return to work the following week. Vance told him to take as much time as he needed and assured him of his prayers. Promising to inform him of the funeral arrangements, Rick ended the call.
Picturing the heart-broken little girl, Vance kneeled, wept and prayed for her and her father. It had been hard enough to lose his wife. How much more difficult it must be to lose a parent. At his side, Ramie placed his paw on Vance’s arm and whimpered. Hugging the dog, the elderly man sobbed into his fur.
The funeral was somber, yet peaceful. The pastor spoke of Sidney’s mother’s love for her husband, her child and her church. She was devoted to the Lord, he said, and always cheerfully eager to help others. “Heaven is sweeter because of this dear woman,” he said as he closed the service. Except for dropping off the meals he bought at the restaurant for them, Vance left the family alone. They needed time to grieve without interference.
A week later Rick arrived at the farmhouse with Sidney in tow. As he and Vance spoke, she played with Ramie.
“I can start on the upstairs tomorrow. That’s the soonest I can get someone to watch Sidney,” Rick said as he watched his daughter throwing a ball for the dog to fetch.
“Why don’t you bring her along? Ramie could use the exercise. And she can bring some toys in case she gets tired of playing with him.”
“You’re sure it won’t be an inconvenience?” Rick asked, although he looked relieved.
“If there’s anything this old house needs, it’s a child playing on the front lawn,” Vance said, his face crinkling with a smile.
The following afternoon, right after school, Rick pulled alongside the farmhouse with a small trailer hitched to his pickup. As soon as Sidney’s foot hit the ground, Ramie bounded out to greet her. As Vance and Rick worked, she played ball with the dog, served him imaginary tea, and decked out a very tolerant Ramie in one of her old dresses. As work wrapped up for the day, Vance broached the subject with Rick.“I don’t know what I would have done without that dog. He was such a comfort to me when I lost Gladys.”
“This has been one of the most difficult times I’ve ever gone through,” Rick said as he joined Vance at the window. Below them, Sidney’s laughter rang out as she ran in circles with Ramie two steps behind her. Vance could sense Rick stiffening when she abruptly stopped, knelt on the ground and opened her arms, catching the dog in them and hugging his neck. The men could hear her sobs.
“She does that quite a bit,” Rick said sadly. “She’ll be playing or doing something else and she’ll suddenly just start crying.”
“It will probably go on for a while,” Vance said. “You know, Rick, dogs are great absorbers of sorrow.”
For the next hour, the two men worked in silence. At five, they went looking for Sidney and the dog and found them curled up on the back porch asleep.
“I hate to wake her. She looks so peaceful. She doesn’t sleep well since…” Rick’s words trailed off.
“I have a friend whose dog, Ramie’s mother, had a litter about six months ago. In fact, that’s how I got Ramie. I spoke with the guy yesterday. He has one left,” Vance said.
“Vance, I appreciate that. But between the hospital and the funeral I just can’t afford to buy a dog right now.” Ramie stirred and pushed himself up on his haunches. Wagging his tail, he appeared to be smiling.
Vance spoke softly so as not to wake the sleeping child. “Rick, from what I’ve seen, you do excellent work. Your prices are reasonable. When you’re finished with the house, I want to give you a bonus. But I’d like you to have part of it now. Will you let me give Sidney that puppy?”
Rick kept his eyes on his daughter as he thought. “She loved old Ollie. Sure would be great to have another dog around. She needs a good companion.”
“Wonderful. But please don’t say anything to her just yet. He may have already sold the pup.”
Nodding, Rick approached the sleeping girl and picked her up. Stirring, Sidney wrapped her arms around her father’s neck. “I dreamed about Mommy,” she murmured against his skin. “She had on a white robe. She was smiling. She said she loves us and misses us.”
“We miss her too, sweetheart.” Carrying her to the truck, Rick turned to Vance. “Thank you, my friend. Let me know what you find out.”
Three days later, the two men were working in the living room when a pickup pulled into the driveway. The sign on its side read:
Drew’s Kennels
Excitedly distracted from playing with Ramie, Sidney dropped the ball and ran toward the lanky man as he stepped out of the truck. Overjoyed to see an old friend, Ramie made a mad dash around her. Dropping to one knee, the man ruffled Ramie’s ears, laughing as the dog yipped and enthusiastically licked his face. Smiling and chuckling, Rick and Vance watched from the porch.
“You must be Sidney,” the man said. “Ramie and I are old friends.”
“He’s my friend too.”
“Yes, I know. My name is Drew. Your dad asked me to bring you a gift.” Straightening up, Drew opened the passenger door and reached in. “Come on. It’s okay.” He turned and watched Sidney’s eyes and grin widen as he held out the wriggling puppy. He set the dog on the ground. After taking a few tentative steps, the pup looked back. “Go on,” Drew said with a wave of his hand. Kneeling, Sidney opened her arms wide. “Come on boy, come to me.” With an eager “rolf, rolf,” the pup bounded into her arms. Within minutes, Sidney and the two dogs were happily at play.
Rick and Vance grinned at each other. Drew joined them on the porch. “Rick, I’d like you to meet Drew Pierson.” The two men shook hands. “Drew bravely suffered through two of my classes. Drew, Rick’s helping me rebuild what I tore up.”
“Thanks for bringing the pup,” Rick said. “He’s exactly what she needed. As I’m sure Vance told you, she just lost her mother.”
“Yes, he did. I’m so sorry,” Drew said softly.
“Let me get my checkbook,” Vance said.
As Vance turned toward the door, Drew caught his arm. “No, I can’t let you do that. Rick, when Vance told me about Sidney, I knew this dog would be perfect for her. The mother dog died three weeks ago. The pup’s been lost without her.”
“God answered my prayer even before I asked Him,” Vance said.
“Mine too,” Rick said.
Sidney tossed the ball between the two dogs. Ramie started for it, then dropped to the ground on his belly. The pup saw his chance. Chasing it down and grabbing it in his mouth, he proudly carried it back to his new mistress and dropped it at her feet. Watching from heaven, Sidney’s mother smiled.
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