The Vine: August 3, 2001
Dear Sars,
I have a 19-year-old niece (we’ll call her “Amy”) who I love dearly, but our relationship is very troubled. We were very close when she was young, because I’m only 11 years older than her and treated her like a kid sister. But this year has been horrible for her (including contracting a venereal disease, that led to an ectopic pregnancy and her near-death), due to making some spectacularly bad choices. She has alienated herself from much of the family by adopting a hoochie look for herself, and being unable to keep a job or keep up her college grades. My mom, her grandma, tried taking her in for a while but can no longer deal with my niece’s constant problems, lifestyle, and inability to pay rent or bills on time.
Because I was forced to intervene when her defaulting on payments was hurting my mom’s limited finances, and was pretty up-front about how disappointed that made me feel, our relationship became strained. At the time I also told some “secrets” (which Mom already knew) about her smoking and the guy she was seeing, because I was concerned about her health. She may still see me as “Aunt Snitch,” though the last time we spoke, she seemed sad and depressed about the whole situation rather than angry.
Amy’s stepfather is a grade-A asshole, the kind who likes to humiliate waitstaff and cheat his friends on business deals. My sister is miserable but won’t leave him though they fight constantly, and I can’t help but think this has a lot to do with my niece’s problems. He’s never physically abused my sister or her kids that I know of (and they all deny any such), but he’s certainly subjected them to a great deal of mental abuse concerning how dumb and useless they all are.
Anyway, now Amy is going back to school for a new semester, living in a campus apartment. She is three hours away from her family, and a lot closer to where I live now. I’d like to start over and try to reestablish a friendship with her again.
My question after all that is, how can I make her feel that I’m still her friend? I think a lot of her problems are due to depression, but she won’t go talk to anyone professional. I want to be there so that she has somebody who’ll listen, but I don’t know if she’ll open up or not.
Also, my adolescence was so different from hers (I was a non-dating recluse and “the good kid”) that I feel overwhelmed by all she has already gone through…like I can never say “I know how you feel.” If you (or any of your readers) were Amy, what would you need to hear from someone like me…what would help the most? I can’t fix her life or problems, but I miss the closeness we had, and I think she does too. I still love her and believe in her, and I want to give her whatever help I can.
Thanks for the advice,
J.
Dear J.,
The situations aren’t analogous, because my brother is my brother and not my niece, and he’s also a bit better adjusted than Amy and comes from the same stable, loving parents that I did…but here’s what I tell him from time to time, because I think it’s important to say it to him in so many words so that he knows for sure: “You’re my little brother and one of my best friends too. I love you, and if you ever need me, for anything, I am here for you.”
That’s not to say that I approve of every little thing he does, because I don’t, or that we don’t get into squabbles sometimes about how the other one is running his/her life, because we do. But he also knows that if he feels despairing in the middle of the night, or gets thrown in jail, or slices his hand open cutting up vegetables, or can’t remember how long to cook a piece of chicken, or needs a ride — whatever, big or small, he can always call his sister. I might bitch and moan and kvell about getting woken up, you owe me this bail money and a huge favor to boot, buy a cookbook you fool, blah blah blah, but I want him to know that he has that one person he can always rely on, and before he left on his European vacation last month, I told him again — you know, if he wound up in a Turkish prison or some damn thing and couldn’t face The Wrath Of Ma, he should drop a dime to me and I’d come ransom his ass. Because I would.
So, tell your niece that. Call her up, or write her a letter, and say something like what I say to my bro now and then. Let her know that you value your relationship with her, and that even if she makes decisions you shake your head at, you still love her and believe in her, and you will be there for her if she ever needs you.
That’s a wonderful thing to know about your friends and family. Even if she blushes or pretends to blow it off, your niece will appreciate it, and will appreciate your having told her in so many words.
Sarah —
I’m an extremely inexperienced high school senior who’s been dating a great guy for about a month now, going out about once a week. We find each other very attractive, but this is the shyest guy I’ve ever met in my life, and we haven’t even kissed yet. (Actually, once I kissed him on the cheek as I got out of his car, and he turned completely red and said “Uh…hmm…wow…uh…wow…hm.”) He’s very into holding hands and hugging me, but I think he’s pretty self-conscious about his looks and that’s as close as he’ll get on his own. Every time I go out with him, I think, “Tonight I’m going to kiss him even if he doesn’t kiss me, I’ll just grab him by the damn collar and stick my tongue down his throat,” but of course I never do because I’m a coward. So how do I handle the situation?
Lonely Lips In Lubbock
Dear Lonely Lips,
Boy, have I been there. In fact, I live there, and I’m 28.
Here’s what I’d do. I’d shotgun a couple of…oh, wait, no, you’re underage.
Okay, here’s what I’d do. The next time the two of you say goodnight, wait for a pause, take a deep breath, and announce that you’re going to kiss him now, and if he doesn’t want you to kiss him, he should speak now or forever hold his peace, but you dig him the most and you’re dying to snog him, so ready or not here you come ollie-ollie-in-come-free and the rest of it. Lean in and kiss him gently on the lips, one of those lingering sweet waking-up-Snow-White kisses with no tongue, and see how he takes it.
He’ll take it well, I imagine. I’ve seldom seen it fail.
Dear Sars,
I have gotten myself into something I can no longer handle.
I am 25 and my sister is 24. We grew up in an Air Force family, moving every year until our parents’ divorce. The only thing we ever had in common was devotion to our family pets, and devastation when overseas assignments forced us to give them up.
My sister is married to a military man, and last year they were told his next post was Guam for two years. Her major dilemma, of course, was what to do with their Rottweiler, mini-mutt, and two cats. While your first reaction might be to wonder what kind of idiot sets herself up like that, let me defend her by saying that the mini-mutt and two cats were abandoned and she was never able to find their original owners or place them with other people. The Rottweiler was her husband’s Christmas present to himself. He, I must admit, is an idiot.
I own a home with a big yard and have collected three cats and two dogs of my own, whom I love very much. So when my sister called last year and begged me to take in her cats until she returned from Guam, I was sympathetic and agreed to do so.
A month later, she called and begged me to take in the dogs also. Originally our father was going to take the mini-mutt and our mother wanted the Rottweiler. But Dad found out his apartment didn’t allow dogs at all, and Mom’s boyfriend refused the Rotty after he had an argument with my sister.
She swore to me that it would only be for six months, by which time she would have saved up enough money to ship the dogs over and put them through the required quarantine. I did not hesitate before agreeing to take them all in.
Turns out I am the biggest idiot of all. While my yard is large, my house is not, and nine animals and two humans quite fill it up. Six months have come and gone, and my sister does not have the money to ship them over. She hasn’t even sent me enough money to cover what I’ve spent on food and emergency vets. The cost of living in Guam is much higher than she expected, but my mom says she bought a couch that cost $2200. Let me repeat: a COUCH. That cost over TWO GRAND. I don’t think I’ve spent two grand on every stick of furniture I own! I’m beyond disgusted.
The cats have their problems, but they are manageable. The dogs are my nightmare. The mini-mutt climbs my fence like a frickin’ monkey, so he has to be chained up every time he goes outside. This is harder than it sounds, as he wiggles like a worm avoiding a hook. He often escapes, by going out sandwiched between the larger dogs or just plain outmaneuvering me. Then I get to chase him and be late for work.
Her Rottweiler was very well-mannered and has been trained extensively. My dogs hate him. The mini-mutt hates him. They attack him at every opportunity, and he never defends himself. Now he must be kept separate. The Rottweiler has lived with cats for both years of his life, but suddenly he started attacking them left and right. I’ve taken one to the emergency vet already, certain he was dead (he pulled through, thank god). Now the cats must be kept separate.
My tiny house is divided into three camps and it has rained almost every damn day for the past two months, so no one can stay outside. I am going nuts. My own dogs and cats are suffering because I can’t give them the time and attention they are used to. This devastates me.
My boyfriend says I am a sucker and my sister is taking advantage of me. Duh. My mom yells at my sister about the situation every time they talk, and my sister calls me sobbing with guilt but unwilling to do anything about it. My dad keeps saying he will move into a house, but he never does.
Finally, I am fed up. I called the paper today and put in ads for foster homes for both dogs, separately, offering to pay all expenses if someone could house them until my sister returns. Even though I think it’s justified, I feel TERRIBLE. What if I find homes, but they won’t give them back in two years? What if they aren’t good homes? And if no one responds to the ad, what the heck am I going to do?
I guess I just want an opinion from you, a level-headed person who knows what it is like to love pets. Am I justified in giving them to someone else, when I agreed to keep them? Do you think there is any chance I will find good temporary homes, or am I deluded? Are the problems I have outlined above worth getting upset about?
Should I have sent you this letter, when there is no real miracle answer? Sorry about that, but it did help to vent about it all and see the issues laid out in print.
Thanks for your time, Sars. You are a very cool person.
Sincerely,
Tired Of It
Dear Tired,
You are absolutely justified in placing your sister’s pets elsewhere, for about a hundred reasons, but let’s review the top few reasons, for the sake of your peace of mind.
Reason The First: The current arrangement is making everyone miserable — home pets, visiting-team pets, humans, neighbors, everyone. Dogs attacking cats, dogs attacking each other, dogs escaping, cats in exile is no way for any of you to live.
Reason The Second: You did not sign on for a domesticated-animal soap opera on this scale. You are only one woman, saddled with a Mutual Of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom situation that only has one solution.
Reason The Third: You only want what’s best for all of the pets, and you have acted accordingly. The Rotty will do much better in a single-pet household where his owners have time to devote to him. Ditto the mini-mutt. And your own pets can return to their former life of leisure.
And you know what else? If the dogs’ foster parents decide not to give the dogs back to your sister, well, good on them. Your sister is obviously unable to take responsibility for her allegedly “beloved” pets, to the point where she hasn’t even met their basic expenses while they live with you. She has lost any right to dictate what happens to them, and you should tell her so: “You’re incapable of doing what’s best for the dogs, so you’ve forced me to do what’s best for them. You no longer have any say in the matter. I am not running an orphanage sponsored by your stupidity.” Next time Sis phones you up “sobbing,” give her something to cry about, because her whole “boo hoo I feel so guilty sitting here on my expensive couch while not paying you for their food” routine is bullshit of the stinkiest variety.
And here comes the rant, because your sister’s attitude is utterly galling. I complain about my cats constantly. I’ve devoted entire columns to it, like the one I wrote this week. But do you know why I decided to take them to Canada, at potentially great detriment to the psychological well-being of all three of us? Because they are MY CATS. They are MY FAMILY. When I took them in, I agreed to care for them no matter what, to do the best I could for them because they couldn’t do for themselves. Yeah, it’s a pain in the ass. Yeah, the shots they need to get into Canada will cost me a fortune. Yeah, they’ll destroy what’s left of my car’s upholstery. That’s too goddamn bad. Pets are NOT TOYS. Pets are NOT HOME FURNISHINGS. Pets are FAMILY MEMBERS, and where you go, THEY GO, period, END OF STORY. If you can’t make that commitment to an animal — loving it, feeding it, brushing it, going thousands of dollars into debt when it gets mysteriously ill, packing it up with your books and bells and candlesticks when you move — then you should not get a pet, because a pet deserves better than you. I’m not trying to come off like some kind of saint because I take decent care of my cats, but…for Christ’s sake. These things should go without saying. “Oh, the apartment building won’t take pets,” wah wah wah. Find another building. “Oh, they claw everything,” wah wah wah. Cats claw. Suck it up. “Oh, I don’t have time to walk him,” wah wah wah. It’s A DOG. Which you KNEW. When you GOT THE DOG. You have to MAKE the time, because the dog is not an END TABLE.
ANYWAY. Interview the people who respond to your ads. Find out how they do with pets, if they have experience with dogs. If nobody responds, go to the local vets and ask if you can put a tear-off sheet on their bulletin boards; people who adopt through vets usually know their stuff and understand the responsibilities that come with pet ownership. When you find suitable homes for the dogs, hand over their bowls and leashes and kiss them on the head and wish them well, because you’ve done the right thing for them. I know it’s heartbreaking, but you have to do it, and your sister and her husband have nothing to say about it.
[8/3/01]
Tags: cats sex the fam
