My Weird In-Law-In-Laws

I've never been married, but I feel I can claim the right to tell stories about and bitch and moan about and generally make fun of my sister's in-laws, because those people are just freaks of nature and it's kind of fun to tell stories about them sometimes.

Most recently I saw my sort-of-in-laws at Thanksgiving, at my sister's house. The mother-in-law has a very precious (read with sarcasm) little pooch. Now, I am a dog person, for sure; I love dogs. However, this particular one was a little over the top, even for me. The dog was tiny, first of all; and basically just a ball of hair. The mother-in-law cradled it in the crook of her arm constantly, and it just sort of perched there and shivered and stared out at the rest of us with its big bug eyes protruding underneath a mound of fluff.

That was kind of annoying; what was more annoying, though, was that she (the mother-in-law) insisted on holding the dog like that, perched in the crook of one arm, while we all ate Thanksgiving dinner at my sister's dining room table. She asked several of us before we sat down if we would mind if the dog sat with her, and we said no of course not - I mean seriously, how do you protest when it's not your house and not your own in-law; but I noticed she did not ask my sister if she minded. I'm assuming it's because she knew my sister would indeed mind, given the not-so-nice out-the-corner-of-her-eye cold side glances I caught my sister giving her mother-in-law a few times during dinner (one particular look was so pointed that I noticed the mother-in-law actually scooted her chair back away from the table a few inches when she saw it. She did not, however, put the pooch down.)

Lest you think I'm making this particular in-law seem too weird over something you think is small - I know lots of people who feed their dogs table scraps and don't mind them hanging out underfoot during meals - let me give another, better example of the extent to which this in-law is derangely attached to the quivering little dog of hers; a story that probably also explains the extent of my sister's (my sister who has a golden lab of her own, which was banished to the fenced-in back yard during that Thanksgiving meal) hostility toward the pampered pooch. This goes back to last Christmas, pre-Christmas, when the in-laws were visiting and my sister and brother-in-law took them out shopping in the historic downtown area of the city where they live. The in-laws brought their little doggy with them that trip too, of course; but that time, it wasn't good enough just to hold the little thing in the crook of an arm or let it walk alongside them on a leash, like a normal dog. Oh, no. No, instead, they brought along a stroller - yes, a baby-stroller - that they had bought especially for the dog. And they proudly strolled that tiny pooch down the streets and into the shops in the stroller, with blankets bunched up all around it, and thought it very normal. My sister grew more embarrassed as the afternoon outing went on, especially when strangers stopped to look at and admire a baby only to back away in confusion (and perhaps fear at unsuspectingly encountering a crazy couple on the street?) when they realized it was a dog in the baby stroller, not a baby. So my sister and brother-in-law ended up walking about 15 feet ahead of the in-laws, and pretended as best they could not to be connected to them in any way.

I guess what made me think of writing about these crazy people tonight is the most recent story making the rounds in the family circle, which is frankly just too sordid to go into right now. Although I can't help but mention it. So suffice it to say it's a story about a woman leaving a man, and a girl who lives with them, who he is maybe having an affair with, but who people also suspect may actually be his own illegitimate daughter. I mean, I like a juicy story as well as the next person, but I just can't bring myself to get into that particular one in any more detail. Which is why I'm writing about their dog instead. At least no one had sex with the dog. (That I know of, anyway...)