Crash Rodman

As a teenager I was known for being a terrible driver. My dad dubbed me “Crash Rodman” and the name followed me through my early twenties. I crashed my fifth and final car during a summer holiday, and I remember thinking to myself that I had two options; buck up and call my dad or drive the partially totaled car to Mexico and never look back. I went with the call, but it was a decision that I seriously contemplated! After what seemed like an eternity, my dad lifted his silence and reminded me that “it’s just a car”. This is just one example of why I have the best dad. My dad is always endlessly understanding and supportive, no matter how many times you make the same mistake (which in my case can be a lot). I was reminded of my fifth crash when I brought Toby home from the farmer’s market.

Last winter I fostered a male Chihuahua, Sherman, from a local rescue group. Sherman was a handful- a true Chihuahua through and through. Sherman ran circles around me and my apartment; marking his territory anywhere and everywhere, literally pissing all over my life. Sherman was unbelievably overwhelming, and completely nocturnal. I hardly slept, and I was convinced that my new roommate was not exactly “adoptable”. Despite being mismatched, Sherman deserved a break and I made a commitment to help him find his forever home. Sherman and I went to doggy school, had all night slumber parties, and just had a grand old time. The weeks turned into months, and I grew accustomed to upgrading to super sized coffees and sleepwalking my way through life. My mom, an animal whisperor and true saint, sympathetically tried to help me better manage the situation. My dad, a realist and animal tolerateor, thought that Sherman was sucking me dry and wanted to find a way to expedite his adoption.

It did take some time, but eventually Sherman was adopted by a wonderful family. I was sad to see my little friend go, but I knew he would be happier in home with kids and other doggie siblings to keep him busy. So I brushed the experience off as a job well done, took a long nap and promised my dad that I would never commit myself to another high maintenance Chihuahua again.

Back to the present, and Toby and I are heading back to Irvine. As I stared at the now sleeping bundle of Chihuahua on my lap I couldn’t help but think “Shit, maybe I should consider taking that drive to Mexico.”