Mora Moments

have often described my parents' home as an... unusual place. My long-time favorite would be 'The Asylum',which I coined somewhere around age thirteen. Yeah, I know, it's not nice to call your mom's house an asylum - but seriously, it's not a negative thing. It's an ode to the vast chaos that goes on and how everyone in the family has grown accustomed to it. It's endearing. Why do I call it 'The Asylum'? Well, let me give you some background information. 

My parents' house is always very busy and loud. Very loud. It's "Fellowship of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" meets "My Big Fat Greek Wedding". My sister (2 years older than me) has severe autism, cerebral palsy, and epilepsy. She is much calmer now, but as a kid she was very aggressive. More often than not, she is hollering about something. My mother's family is Greek and is all up in each other's business. At any moment they may show up and abduct you! I actually really like that, though. My dad is quite a bit like Shep from Ya-Ya, only not so much the innocent bystander. 

Ya-Ya Sisterhood, Sidda talking to her father, Shep: "and the inmate takes over the asylum." - Sidda. "No, it's more like Stockholm syndrome." - Shep 

Add in some animals and you pretty much have the whole picture.

The animals in our family have always had more of a supporting role in the chaos, that is, until Samora. 

My cousin called my dad up one day and told him about this littler of puppies a neighbor had. My cousin became increasingly aware that these puppies were not going to have a good future. The owners didn't want them and just wanted to get rid of them.The mother was a chow, and my dad loves chows. No one knew who the father was, but the puppies looked like pure chow. So my dad drove up and took a look. This adorable little 8wk old puff ball, bouncing around,ended up coming home with him. That first car ride should have been the tip-off. Samora rode on the passanger's seat, inside a small cardboard box. Apparently, she was able to wrestle her way out of the box and go all Cujo on my dad. This little 8 wk old puppy tore him up like a wolverine. I had never been scared of a dog before, especially not a little puppy. But this thing was crazy! We all started calling her Taz since she embodied the little devil so well. Anything was fair game. If I wanted to go to sleep, I would barricade myself with anything and everything in my room. It wasn't much help though, because she would just climb the whole thing. If I was working on homework, well, forget it. Those jaws were shredders. If I wanted to go on my trampoline I had to throw a stick a far as I could, wait for her to chase it, and make a mad dash for it - hoping I made it in time. It was clear that this was not a "normal" dog, she was something more. Something wild. My dad and I did as much research as we could on raising dog mixes, in case that was, in fact, what we were dealing with. In time she became a wonderful addition to our family. She is 12 years old now and is just as "different" - think of her as an extreme version of Marmaduke. She our little Miss Priss and I love her dearly.

It seems like everyday that dog is doing something that makes us go "what is the dog doing?" Or better yet, something that makes us go "Good grief Mora, it's really ok." So I've decided to capture these little Mora Moments. Enjoy! 

No comments:

Post a Comment