What a Doll

Aunt Dollie warrants remembrance and attention, which was what she got when she lived. I knew her as my Dad’s aunt during the 1960s and thought her exotic and stylish, as far as aunts go. Her haircolor was eggwhite, and I never saw it any way but bunned, sleek and severe. Her skirts were mammoth, though she was not, and she sewed pockets into them to hold her chihuahua Chico, like a hankie.

She gave off the air of party and had a really good walk, swishy. She looked like a woman who had opinions. She looked like a woman who liked looking like a woman who had opinions.

She and her husband Harold didn’t have children, which may account for her elegant clothing allowance. It may account for the affection she gave Chico.

This I could not share. Chico could never have been a pup, or else the cute-gene skipped his generation. His was the bark of a beast clamped in a bear trap. His was the mien of a blender spun on high speed.

I wonder why he was such a nasty dog. Perhaps living life as an accessory just rubbed him the wrong way.

Advertisements

About Mrs. Fitz

Hello! I'm Michele Fitzpatrick, a Chicago writer. Like our town, a work in progress. As a journalist, teacher and writing coach I think all of us live our stories and sharing them creates moments that remind us we're connected. And that is enough.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s