A Spitting Image

by Bill

Sometimes I think that we choose our parents. My Dad is the greatest influence in my life.  He comes home from work or play, and if I have had any problem that day, even though I seem fine, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is "what's on your mind?"  After a while of denying any problem, he comes out with a jewel of advice that somehow pertains to the situation exactly. He always has great advice for me. Some of my friends even go to him with their problems.  I remember meeting a little fur ball pup that our neighbor named Bear.  They could not keep the pup so I asked if we could keep him.  My Mother said no, that the dogs paws were too big and he would grow up to be too big for our house.  For two days I cried and cried.  On the third day I came home from school and Dad said someone was waiting for me.  That someone turned out to be Hercules.  Herk had a great life to the end.  One day Dad took Herk to my brother Joe's baseball game.  He sat on a lawn chair in the outfield with Herk tied to his chair. All of a sudden Herk bolted away knocking my Dad on the grass.  Herk dragged him for ten feet or so across the grass until the leash got free and Herk was gone.  Herk came back with a bag of Doritos.  We all wondered where he found the chips.  Our questions were answered when we looked a hundred feet away and noticed a chinese man holding his arm in pain with his picnic destroyed.  One grim day Dad called and said Herk was vomiting everywhere and needed to be put down.  So reluctantly, he took herk away only to come back an hour or two later with a mad expression on his face.  I told him he did everything he could. "He's in the fucking car" Dad said.  Herk lasted a couple of months after that only because my Dad got the medicine Herk needed.  Dad always takes care of his family.  People say sometimes that I'm a spitting image of my father and that makes me very proud.