What's a Dad to Do?

Dadd's little girl story...

The yelping was almost deafening.

            “Can I have one daddy?” Madelyn begged, “Please daddy, please can I have a puppy?”

            Seven tiny puppies in an array of blacks, browns, grays, and whites, crawled over one another, vying for the attention of those passing by.

            “Pleeeeaaaase daddy!” her begging much like that of the puppies she so desperately wanted.

            “How much?” I asked the large elderly man sitting on a dirty five-gallon bucket.

            “’un-dred-fite,” he responded in a lazy rural tone.

            “$150?” I asked in utter disbelief. “Are they registered?”

            “Nah,” he replied quite dismissive, “their momma was full-blooded rat terrier and the daddy was a Jack Russell. Un-dred fite!”

            It was not the first time I had bought a dog outside of a shopping mall, but $150 I thought to myself. Madelyn had not even been conceived in concept when I bought Rascal. At the time I was told he was pure-bred German Shepard. However, as he aged his heritage most certainly came into question�"and so did his family line.

            I felt as if I was getting a “helluva deal” as the kind lady selling the pups informed me. Apparently she was doing her son a favor. He was a veteran of this country and off fighting for democracy. She was selling these dogs to send him money. Well, it wasn’t long after that Rascal began showing signs of sickness and retardation. It was four months after he came that we had to put him down. Apparently, as the vet told us, Rascal’s mommy and daddy were most likely brother and sister�"and it was good chance so were their parents, and probably the parents before that.

            “Rural farms often sell inbred pups because it is quick money and low overhead.” our vet told us. “There is simply no telling what you are getting until you have it!”

            “Daddy, daddy, daddy!” my attention was quickly diverted back to Madelyn who rolled on the ground with a tiny black and white dog licking her furiously. “Oh my god daddy, please, please can I have him? Please daddy!” she begged with joy.

            I already knew what I had.

            I had a little girl who wanted a puppy.

            “Hundred?” I asked the old man

            “One-tweny-five.” he counter-offered.

            What’s a dad to do?

Author's Note

Just a quick flash fiction