Twenty-seven years. Twenty-seven long years. She looked down at the knives in her hand. Two simple steak knives … and he was backing up, directly into the knives. No one would believe the story, not for a minute.
“Hey! Stop! I’ve got knives in my hand. You’re backing right into the knives,” I said. The thought was just a tiny, momentary lapse …
“They’d never believe your story,” he commented as I put the knives in their sheathes.
“They have me in maximum security for the remainder, brief though it may be, of my so-called life.”
“The DNA alone would convict you,” he agreed. Good he hadn’t moved faster or it could have been all over before I had a chance to warn him …
Which bring me to what I bought for our anniversary
Garry doesn’t need clothing. Garry doesn’t need a tie or a watch. Nor jewelry, a book, a computer, or a cell phone. Garry doesn’t really need anything except possibly more hair which I promised I’d get him if I got rich from the proceeds of my book. I didn’t get rich and have not hit the lottery — unlikely having not bought any lottery tickets. Which means Garry still needs hair. Maybe in our next lifetime.
As for me, I don’t need anything anyone can buy. So, I figured there was nothing I could get that would be interesting, surprising, or unique. I was wrong.
It all started when we had Duke at the vet the other day. We got to postulating “what IS Duke?” The curled over the back tail, his funny scrunched in face scream some kind of Asian breed. Not the kind of dog you usually find roaming streets looking for a back alley girl dog for a quickie. Accidental backyard breeding? Intentional mix?
Something happened because we’ve got The Duke.
So, the vet says: “Maybe Shi Tzu? Not King Charles … no spaniel in this dog. Don’t think he’s any kind of herder … Okay. That’s it. You’re going to have to do DNA. I need to know what this dog IS,” said Dr. Marcie.
“I’d like to know too,” I said, “But those tests are pricey.”
“I think around $75 … something like that,” she admitted.
“Not this week,” I said. Although if she’ll pay, I’m up for it.
But this got me to thinking, so I looked up the DNA breed tests for dogs and indeed, they are in the $75 range. More pressingly, I have to get Bonnie clipped next week. She has reached the “stinking bag of black rags on legs” stage. Gibbs has a flat, smooth coat, so for now, he is okay. Garry pointed out that Duke is more a “hose him down” sort of guy. So rather than sending out DNA to discover Duke’s ancestors, I thought I’ll get Bonnie clipped.
But speaking of anniversaries, how about ancestral DNA for Garry and I? We may not need it, but it would certainly be different, right? Oddly, it’s less expensive to get the DNA for humans than for dog breeds. Go figure, right?
So. That’s what I did. DNA for we two lovebirds. In about four weeks, the mystery of our ancestors will unfold. The truth will be revealed! The veils of history will lift and all will be known. Or maybe not. We shall see.
As for Duke, I’m afraid he will have to wait until my curiosity goes over the top … or one of those lottery tickets comes in big.