Editors' Note: Sara's story started with "Manfriend, Mania and the Dead Puppy." You'll want to read it first to catch up before this episode begins.
I'm sorry if this story is upsetting. As I said, it was beyond anything I, in my adult life, have ever experienced.
The manfriend, after my sister told him to leave, yelled and screamed and ranted and raved all day. My sister would not let me call the police. She, instead, called his mother who came right over.
Not before Manfriend got within two inches of my face, called me a college educated rich bitch and that don't worry, he don't get mad, he gets even.
He sure sounded mad.
In the meantime, it was Monday- I needed to find out about insurance. A friend had emailed me information on MA insurance but I literally could not read the page, figure out where to click- which is completely unlike me.
I know how to navigate a webpage.
The same friend, who I had called in horror about the puppy, took care of the insurance. Filled out the forms, signed her up. My sister would have gold level care from Blue Cross as of July 1st. She was also signed up with a primary care doctor who I know personally, and trust immensely.
It was too disturbing to focus on the dead puppy. Part of me didn't really believe it, but when his mother showed up, Manfriend told her he killed it, too. And when his friend came to help him pack, again, the same story.
I wanted him gone. I had no faith that his mother would have any impact on him.
I was so wrong. His mother, who I will call Mama, because that's what he called her, was not tall, or large, or overpowering in voice. She was sweet, gentle, and reminded me of the southern women I knew in my life. She got there and Manfriend turned his attention on her- raging, yelling, but she did not flinch, nor did she appear the slightest bit afraid.
She kept asking him where her boy was, because that was not him.
Long gone, Mama, he kept saying.
I understood why my sister believed this woman would keep us safe. There was an invisible line she created and he did not dare cross it. It was powerful to see.
In the meantime, while he ranted, packed, raged, and she tried to talk to him, my sister and I plotted the escape. Doctor on Tuesday, we leave on Wednesday. Went to the post office to change address. Called the realtor, to put the house on the market. Called the locksmith and had the locks changed. Called the alarm company.
Everyone but the police, it seemed.
By evening, the Manfriend was gone, Mama was there talking with us, and looking through her bible for a good passage to read. It was by no means offensive to me, nothing Mama did was in any way offensive to me, but curious that the assumption was that I, too, believed in the good Lord.
It was getting dark, and my sister wanted to go to get the cages for the dogs so they could come in the house. Mostly outdoor dogs, because Manfriend believed dogs belonged outdoors, they had a kennel about fifty yards from the house where there was a shed, too. We went to get the cages, and some food for the dogs. When we were almost back to the house, I saw something wiggling in the tall grass...
It was the puppy.
The puppy was not dead after all. Just ditched, probably by the side of the road and made it's way back to the last place it knew.
I was relieved there was not that level of violence, and I was furious that man lied in a way that was beyond manipulative- it was evil.
I picked him up, brought him in with the other dogs, and fed him. Two of the dogs, Manfriend's and one of my sisters, were very aggressive and I had to do a little alfa roll on one of them. Honeybear, the other of my sister's dogs, ended up curling up with the pup for the night.
I gave him a bath in the sink, to find all sorts of bites, probably tick bites, on the poor thing. It had been living out on it's own for a while. Mama thought Manfriend probably found him at the dump- where most people leave unwanted animals.
My sister called the house where she knew Manfriend was staying and said, tell him the dead puppy just wandered up.
Add to the list of things to do: drop the puppy off at the pound. Great. He curled up on my lap in the sweltering humidity, falling fast asleep, and all I could think of was how horrible for this little puppy to have become a pawn in a game run by an insane man.
And I could not take one more day of this insanity. Not one more day.
I did, though, and every moment I thought, it could not get worse? It did.
Yes, there is more. I wish there wasn't but there is.