I've mentioned previously that My Wife's Brother and His New Wife were coming to stay at our house while on their way to Washington state, right? They're moving and so they had their dog with them. The Brother-In-Law's Wife is from South Georgia and is rather young, immature, irresponsible, and self-centered. She has a full-sized Labrador retriever which she dotes on and even sleeps with. He is a very large Labrador and has the standard Lab personality. He likes to go outside and run, retrieving anything you throw, or if you don't throw something then he'll just go get something and bring it to you in hopes that you might throw it for him.
Brother-In-Law's Wife, whom I shall call Lulu for no particular reason other than that the Dukes of Hazzard is on and Lulu is a fat woman from Georgia on the show, has become fairly accustomed to the idea that she can always get her way when dealing with My Wife's family. She even railroads my Mother-In-Law as she pleases, which drives the Mother-In-Law nuts and which then inspires the Mother-In-Law to phone My Wife and complain about it at great length. I wrote about this previously.
In years past Mother-In-Law has fought with us in an attempt to railroad us into letting her bring her own Labrador to our house, bring him inside our house, and sleep with him in our guest bed. This dog, nice as he is, has ruined her own house. There is dog hair everywhere and in everything. When she washes anything there is so much dog hair in the washer that a clean shirt fresh from the store comes out of the washer covered in dog hair. My Wife and Brother-In-Law once tried to clean her house while she was in the hospital only to vacuum up 3 full bags of dog hair, and still it wasn't all up from the carpet, let alone the beds and couches and chairs inside the house. They cleaned the house for days trying to make it sanitary for her return, but the effects of having the dog living inside the house were too much. She lives in a dog house now and it will likely never be clean again.
Each year Mother-In-Law has fought to bring her dog inside our house. Each year we have told her that it is not possible for us to allow a dog inside our house for various reasons which she already knows, but still she fights us. She even admitted that if we let her bring the dog at all she will agree to leave him outside in our backyard, but as soon as our back is turned she intends to bring him inside the house and into our bed. To me this is incredibly disrespectful and shows a very revealing and enlightening glimpse into her true feelings towards us that she would be so rude and unreasonable about our rules for our own home.
Let me give you even more background on this, just in case you are riveted and begging for even more information. When I was still only dating My Wife I went to visit her family in Georgia. The Mother-In-Law's dog was at that time the Brother-In-Law's dog, which he had rescued as a puppy from being drowned at a local park near Atlanta. The Mother-In-Law initially did not want a dog inside her house for the very same reasons that most people don't. But Her Son, my future Brother-In-Law, was insistent and eventually wore her down. So the dog came to live inside the house more and more often.
She was divorced from their father and dating a man at the time. This man was very neat and clean and kept a perfect house for himself. He had made it clear that they were welcomed to come over to his house, but that the dog was not permitted inside because he has white carpet and no pets and does not want any animals of any kind inside his home.
At one point My future Wife, future Brother-In-Law, and I had to stop over at his house to pick up something he had very kindly made for their mother. When he went downstairs into his basement to get it for us my future Brother-In-Law brought the dog into the house. I have no idea why he did this. There was no reason for it. The dog immediately ran down the hall, sniffing everything and exploring. He also tracked red Georgia clay all through the living room and all the way down the hall. This was no surprise to anyone, as we were all in Georgia and red Georgia clay is what your dog is walking on while he's outside. Any fool could see this coming.
The future Brother-In-Law and future Wife ran to the bathroom and got his handtowels and face rags and we all tried furiously to scrub the stains out of the carpet before he came upstairs again. We were mostly successful, but not entirely. So, for no particular reason, we had just ruined this man's white carpet despite his very clearly stated rule that the dog was not allowed inside his home.
You might think this lesson would stick with an intelligent person, and My Wife's family are almost all highly intelligent.
Fast forward to today and that dog is now the Mother-In-Law's dog and the Brother-In-Law has since adopted a new dog, another Labrador, but much larger than this first one. He is in the military and has been living in the extreme Northeast, where he quickly learned that lesbianism, radical feminism, and Berkenstockism is highly common, but not nearly as sexy or attractive as they make it appear on television. So he not only did not date while stationed up North, he did not even associate with many of the girls up there. He was repulsed by most of them and not overly thrilled with the rest. At one point he met a friend of a friend, a Georgia girl living at the extreme Southern end of the state, and he had a whirlwind relationship before marrying her.
He bought her a house near her family in South Georgia before returning to base up North and going out to sea for several months. He returned to find that she had adopted his dog as her baby, projecting all of her worst insecurities into him, and spending all of her time hand feeding him inside the house, but never ever cleaning anything. The house is filthy and the dog is stir-crazy. New Wife, meanwhile, has memorized the In-Laws phone numbers and spent a great deal of her spare time calling up the women and talking their heads off.
Brother-In-Law then gets transferred to Washington State. Dog, Wife, and contents of house must all be moved. Meanwhile, Mother-In-Law, despite her protests to us that she can't get a word in edgewise during frequent phone conversations with this chubby bleach-blonde dog-spoiler, has been talking to her about the coming move and coming overnight stay at my dog-free home. She has not only agreed with Lulu that we are totally unreasonable in not allowing the dog inside our house, but even gone further and convinced her that we really should be giving the dog his own room!
Yes, the Mother-In-Law and the Brother-In-Law's new wife Lulu, have decided that I am a bastard because I am not going to set up a room in my house just for the fucking dog. And now, having found someone to reinforce her feelings of entitlement regarding the dog, Lulu is in a rage before she has even packed her ass into the truck to head our way.
Keep in mind that my house isn't large. As it is Lulu herself was going to be sleeping in the guest bedroom in our guest bed, which is a twin, and the Brother-In-Law was going to be on the couch in the living room, because that is all we have. The only other rooms are the master bedroom, where My Wife and I sleep, and the office, which is so packed with bookshelves and computer equipment that no large dog could even fit, let alone find room to get comfortable for a night's sleep. In addition, we have two cats who sleep inside our home and who would not sleep at all with the dog inside because they would be running for the door to get out. Cats, it is worth noting, are substantially cleaner than very large Labrador retrievers, especially after the Lab has played fetch in our muddy yard.
And most importantly of all is the simple fact that we had already made it clear over and over again that no dog is permitted inside our home, which in and of itself would be the end of this whole thing were we dealing with any decent person.
My Wife, during all of this, was overjoyed that Her Brother, with whom she has always been closer than she is to any other member of her family, was coming to spend time with her after having been gone and virtually unreachable for years and years. She worked frantically to prepare our house for both him and his young, immature, insecure, pushy wife. My Wife had to work massive overtime hours in order to get time off from her work so she could spend the day with Her Brother, whom she loves very much. Even though she was exhausted from all the sacrifice in preparing for him, she still paced excitedly all day long waiting for him to arrive.
When he finally did arrive on Wednesday night he was friendly and happy to see His Sister. The dog was happy to finally be getting out of the truck and went with me into our backyard where he immediately grabbed a huge piece of firewood and dropped it on my foot for me to throw for him. I played fetch with him for about half an hour before noticing that he had no food or water. I took the top to our birdbath and laid it flat next to the faucet and filled it for him. He laid down and buried his head in the water while he drank. He was dying of thirst and exhausted. I went inside. Lulu, I had already noticed before taking the dog out back, got out of the truck with a frown on her face, her fists clenched and her feet wide apart as if preparing for a Sumo wrestling competition. She carried nothing into the house, leaving it all to the rest of us to take care of while she stomped inside and huffed and puffed around, clenching and unclenching her fists in an obvious rage.
Welcome to our house. What is your fucking problem?
After I played with the dog and gave him water I went inside. The Brother-In-Law and My Wife were happily talking to each other. Lulu was stomping around, only speaking when she thought up some complaint about how the dog was miserable and going to die outside. I mentioned that he needed water and food, but Lulu insisted that he was too upset to eat. I told her that I had given him water using the top of our birdbath and our faucet thinking this would reassure her that despite her unwillingness to get off her ass and go take care of her dog I had done it for her. In response to the news that I had given him fresh water she said, "well, he hates dirty water, but I guess he'll drink it if he's thirsty enough."
"It isn't dirty. It's fresh from the tap. Why don't you get his water dish if you're worried about it?" Lulu ignored me as this would require her to go outside and carry a burdensome plastic dish to her dog, her baby, the love of her life, and she wasn't really all that interested in doing that. It was just too much trouble. Besides, it was so much easier to make excuses by claiming that the dog was too upset to eat or drink, despite the fact that his head was still in my birdbath guzzling the water as fast as he could even as we spoke.
After I had played with The Dog and given him water the Brother-In-Law went out and played with him, too. He made sure the dog was fine and came back in to see His Sister. At no time did Lulu go out and take care of her precious baby, her bed buddy, her doggie whom she claims to love so much.
The dog, now alone, dropped the log he had been fetching at the back door and scratched at the glass, whining for someone to come play with him. I once owned a Labrador myself. From what I remember of my own dog and from playing with Mother-In-Law's dog I theorized that while the dog could see us inside he would feel left out and want us to come play. But if he couldn't see us he would entertain himself, smelling all the strange scents that fill our animal-infested backyard and sniffing the air for other dogs in the area. So I closed the blinds. After a few minutes he stopped whining and went off to explore the rest of the yard. He was fine.
This did not sit well with Lulu, the angry beast from Peroxide, Georgia. She violently threw back the blinds as soon as she noticed them closed and tapped on the glass to attract the attention of the dog. He ran over from what he was doing and whined for her to come out and play with him. But she had no interest in doing this at all. Instead she returned to pacing back and forth in front of the dog, clenching and unclenching her fists as she stomped her feet. She mumbled about how unhappy she had just made him, but of course she didn't word it quite that way. She indicated that he was unhappy because he was outside, not because she was teasing him like a bitch willing to torment her own 'baby' in order to get her way at all costs. Apparently she thought we were all retarded morons who couldn't see clearly how she was stirring him up. It angered her that her high school girl tricks weren't working and she still hadn't gotten her way.
So Lulu went into the kitchen to see if she could ruin My Wife and Brother-In-Law's reunion. She succeeded marvelously, driving him from the kitchen with grunts and scowls. He was clearly agitated, but not willing to stand up to her. "Why can't we just get along," he asked very quietly as he walked out. He went outside and entertained the dog some more, leaving his bitch inside with My Wife and I. Then the fun started.
"This is going to go on all night, you know," Lulu blurted, intending to refer to the whining of the dog at the back door.
"Well I'm not going to put up with it, just so you know," My Wife responded, referring to Lulu's insulting and disrespectful behavior in our home.
"Well we may just have to go stay in a motel then. They take dogs, you know," Lulu threatened incorrectly.
"Then maybe you should do that," My Wife replied, no longer willing to keep quiet and put up with the tantrum-throwing pig that had invaded our home.
Brother-In-Law then returned to the kitchen, where His Bitch happily informed him that this simply wasn't going to work because the dog was obviously so unhappy and they would have to go find a motel. It was 11 p.m. and we live a Little Redneck Town with 3 motels, 1 of which even the dog wouldn't feel safe in. Brother-In-Law, as nonconfrontational with His Bitch and His Mother as My Wife is with Her Mother and Her Father, agreed to her demands. We all, except Lulu, carried all of their things straight back to their truck and repacked it. Brother-In-Law silently began to cry as he got back into his truck after having done all of the packing and all of the driving by himself, and started up the engine. Lulu, seeing his tears, smiled for the first and only time since arriving at our home. I put the dog back into their truck. Then Lulu plopped her generously large and indolent ass back into the passenger's seat and slammed the door. My Wife then turned her back to the truck and burst into tears. I put my arms around her and held her. As I watched Brother-In-Law, The Dog, and The Bitch driving off to find out that our motels do not, in fact, permit dogs, I swore that while The Dog might be welcomed to return to our home, The Bitch was not.
My Wife cried huge, agonizing tears that night. Every message she had tried to send to Her Brother since he married The Bitch had been intercepted and heavily edited by her. The Mother-In-Law, the Grandmother, and other members of their family, had all complained to one another that they could not reach him since the day he married that lazy pig of a girl. "Now," My Wife cried, "My Brother is gone forever. I'll never get to see him again so long as he's married to that BITCH! She is SUCH A BITCH! I HATE HER!" My Wife was absolutely inconsolable. All her sacrifice and all her joy had been sabotaged by The Bitch.
Worst of all is the fact that The Mother-In-Law had helped create this nightmare, agreeing with The Bitch and even suggesting the idea that we were somehow obligated to give The Dog his very own room inside our house, as she has done for Her Dog, egging Lulu on and throwing gasoline on the fire. But pointing this noteworthy fact out to My Wife would be a waste of time, I already knew. So I just held her and let her cry.
I finally convinced My Wife to call Her Brother's cell phone and ask him if he and she could eat breakfast together tomorrow morning, just the two of them. He agreed that this was a good idea and so they made a date to spend time alone together.
2 hours later at about 1 a.m. the phone rang again. It was The Bitch. "I don't feel comfortable with this breakfast thing. I'm afraid you're both going to talk about me," she whined shrilly to My Wife.
I thought it darkly revealing that she was as paranoid of her own husband as she was of My Wife.
"This has nothing to do with you," My Wife hissed back. "I want to see My Brother."
"Well, I'm not comfortable with that. You'll both talk about me. You'll say things about me. I'm just not comfortable with that."
My Wife was fuming now. "Why do you think everything is about you? This isn't about you. I want to see My Brother, but you won't let him talk. You won't let anyone talk to him even on the phone. You're always in the background butting in and trying to distract him from talking to us. Everyone in our family has noticed this. No one can ever talk to him without you trying to get in the way. You didn't even give him the letters I sent him. I asked him about it and he didn't know what I was talking about. You kept them."
"Well, I told him sort of what was in them. I didn't think it mattered," Lulu snorted.
The conversation went on and on, with Lulu The Bitch continually turning it back around to herself. It was always all about her. The more she talked the more she revealed herself in ways she seemed completely unaware of. She's jealous. She petty. She insecure in spades. And she projects her worst qualities onto everyone around her, viewing the dog as an insecure and needy child while her own husband becomes a gossipy, jealous, backstabber who would betray her at the first opportunity.
My Wife held her ground. I was so glad to see it. She stood firm. And she and Her Brother did have breakfast together, just the two of them the following morning. And in that short breakfast they got to speak more openly and freely than they had in years. Certainly much more so than they would have the entire night at our house with Lulu The Bitch present to constantly interrupt them.
Lulu, with some odd encouragement from My Mother-In-Law, has dug herself a deep, deep hole. She's young and immature, but not very intelligent. Meanwhile, the family she has taken on is mentally sharp and very close. The Mother-In-Law may not even realize that she has helped put Lulu on the shit-list of her own former In-Laws, the family of her ex-husband, My Wife's father, who all live near each other in the areas surrounding Atlanta.
As for Lulu's impression of me, she clearly expected me to cave to her childish tantrums the way her new husband and new mother-in-law do, the way everyone has always done, apparently. I wasn't rude to her, but I didn't back off one bit and I won't. If she isn't going to respect me or My Wife in our own home then I'm going to be a continual pain in her ass. Apparently Lulu hasn't ever encountered a grown man before. Perhaps it will be good for her?
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