I’m scared of my wife, but in a healthy, respectful way.
Because she has the power to pull into her universe anything she wants.
That sounds crazy. What kinds of things?
I am a good first example. She signed her name with my last name in high school, even though we never dated then. She knew we were going to get married someday. She never pushed with her love for me, as she knew that all she had to do was remain patient. Even when I pissed her off near the end of her senior year, she remained my friend, stayed patient, and eventually we started dating and got married. It will be for ten years this summer.
…but that’s another series of wonderful stories. None of them creepy at all.
The story I want to tell you right now is about my dog.
My wife and I pulled into our driveway several years ago, back when we were living in a duplex in Fairlawn, Ohio, about one year after getting married. We stopped our car near the end of the driveway and did not want to pull up farther because a large, well-built, dark-colored German Shepherd-type dog was standing in between our car and the garage.
The dog looked like it could take somebody out with the greatest of ease.
I remember looking back and forth between my wife and this dog, and one of us eventually said something like, “Should we get out of the car?”
The dog looked like something you should not approach.
Eventually, we did get out of the car and slowly approached the dog. It was well-groomed and wearing a spiky collar. It didn’t get too close to us, but it didn’t run away. So, we went inside and got some deli-style turkey slices. The dog then decided we were okay people, and let us pet it. It was a little bit nervous, but fine with us, all things considered.
A little background to this story is that my wife and I have probably returned ten dogs to their owners after finding them astray. It’s a hobby we have that falls into our laps from time to time. We even returned a dog to its home after finding it in the road right in front of what turned out to be its own house. We drove it all the way to the vet and found out that we had kinda just stolen a dog temporarily, but that’s another story for another time…
Back to the dog we were discussing. It turned out to be a she, and she was obviously quite intelligent. She seemed young and well trained. Because of this, we tried commands, but none of them worked. We found a ball. It turned out that the dog could fetch. This was a smart and happy, yet nervous, dog. Someone obviously would be missing this dog.
We didn’t own a dog at the time, so we didn’t have a leash. We tied the cloth belt from a bathroom robe to the dog’s collar and started walking her around the neighborhood. She didn’t try to run or pull away. She walked with us. This was obviously a loved dog. We approached a few neighbors, but no one knew to whom the dog belonged.
We decided that we would take her to the vet in the morning to see if she was microchipped. At that moment, it was too late to go. We decided to keep the dog for the night, and we were honestly quite excited about it. This was a very nice, intelligent dog who was kind enough to give us a trial run at dog ownership for the night.
She was as good as we thought she would be. She wined a little, but that was obviously because of some nerves. She was sweet to us, listened to us, and still had some puppy excitement in her which was cute, even though this was an 80-pound dog with pristine teeth that appeared to be razor sharp and fully capable of tearing through our jugular veins should she feel threatened.
At one point, I suggested to my wife that, if we ended up keeping the dog, we should name her Maizie. The name came to me because my wife and I had (prior to becoming parents) always played the “what do you think of this baby name?” game, and Maizie was one we both liked, but since I’m Michael and she’s Margaret, we didn’t ever want to give any of our children another “M” name. We just aren’t that goofy. Sorry if that’s the motif in your particular family, but I’m sticking to my guns. You all have the same last name…why do you need more and more to match? There’s no law against naming all of your children the same name, is there?
Anyway, my wife was absolutely happy with calling the dog Maizie, so that’s what we started doing.
And my wife immediately fell in love with the dog. With Maizie.
I’m pretty sure Maizie even slept on the bed that night.
The next morning, we took Maizie to the vet, and, much to our disappointment, she was microchipped. At least we were doing the right thing and returning the dog to her owner. It was another one for the books.
It turned out that the owner lived around the corner from us. He was a stocky man who owned another dog, a purebred black German Shepherd. Once he saw Maizie, he was happy and started giving her commands in German, which she obeyed diligently. My wife and I looked at each other and read one other’s mind (“German! Of course! Why didn’t we try speaking to the dog in fucking German?”). It turned out that Maizie’s owner trained German Shepherds to sniff out drugs and corpses and other intense shit. Maizie (for whatever reason her owner was calling her “Mira”) was being trained in German as well, but her owner bought her for his girlfriend as more of a “pet dog.”
We told him she was an amazing dog, and we loved having her, and asked where we could get a dog like that because we want a dog now. We pointed to where we lived, because it was that close.
Finally, we said goodbye to Maizie.
My wife was upset. I was a bit bummed, too. But we had no right to be, of course. It was just that we fell in love with that dog.
The next day, I noticed that my wife had used the picture we took of Maizie for any potential “found dog” posters and made it the wallpaper on her cell phone.
This is how the witchcraft began.
She kept that picture on her phone, and said that she wasn’t going to remove it until Maizie came back.
We would drive by the owner’s house often, as it was on the way to most things, and every time we drove by, my wife would point and casually say, “my dog lives there.”
This went on for a month. We didn’t even look for other dogs. I don’t even think we had any other interaction with Maizie’s owner during this time. Little did he know, across the street and three houses down, a woman had a picture of his dog on her cell phone, called his dog by another name, and every time she drove by his house, the woman pointed and claimed his dog hers.
Creepy. I know.
I don’t get it. To this day, it still gives me the heebie-jeebies.
About a month after returning Maizie, my wife and I are taking a nap, and I’m awoken by the doorbell.
It’s Maizie’s owner.
He’s telling me that his purebred German Shepherd is getting too aggressive with Maizie. (He still insisted on calling her “Mira” for some reason.)
He’s telling me that he remembered that we liked Maizie.
He’s wondering if we’d like to keep Maizie.
I’m half awake at this point, so I think I muttered something like, “Jesus. Are you…really?”
And when he swore that it was the truth, I woke up. I was happy. Maizie was coming home that night.
I thanked the man thoroughly.
Then I closed the door and realized what my wife had done. I was a little creeped out.
Naturally, she was ecstatic when I told her.
I asked her why she couldn’t will us a winning lottery ticket. I think I asked her why she only uses her powers for husbands and dogs.
My wife also had a pair of glasses at the time that she had been asking to be replaced because she didn’t like the frames, but I had been refusing because I didn’t want to spend the money on a perfectly functional pair of glasses. When Maizie came home to us, she chewed those glasses in half within minutes of being with us.
And she never chewed up anything else, ever.
My wife absolutely scares me sometimes.