Asian Dad Eulogy #1

[Warning: this might only be funny if you have an Asian father too. Do not read if you are especially sensitive about the death of animals.]

My sister, on her visit home at the end of December, had to make the difficult decision to put our dog to sleep. My father, at first, adamantly refused to do so, telling her that it was easy for her to come home and make such a drastic decision after being away all this time; he was the one who took her out six times a day and cleaned up after her [she was, at this point, incontinent, probably due to multiple tumors. She was also blind and deaf.]. He had taken care of her longer than he had taken care of either of us [true; she was 18], and she seemed okay to him. Finally, though, he agreed, realizing he hadn’t really been aware of the extent of her decline since it had been gradual. He was the most heartbroken of us all.

When they all returned from the veterinarian on that very sad day, however, the first thing my father decided he ought to do was take the half-opened crate of canned dog food back to Wal-Mart for a refund. And he returned, triumphant, a half-hour later, explaining that once he told them our dog had died and we had had to put her to sleep, they took it all back, no problem, and gave him his money.

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