Foolish Me - Part III
For the first time in many months, my house was calm and peaceful. We’d just given up a rambunctious puppy and were down to one dog, my cute little twenty pound Labradoodle, Vincent. But I was still itching to replace my precious Lucille whom I’d lost to cancer the previous summer. So, despite the many obstacles, including a scammer who ghosted me and my subsequent revenge plot against her, my quest to find a new dog continued.
THIS IS PART 3 of a FOUR-PART STORY
I had no address for Cindy, owner of the gorgeous Landseer, Maxwell, on whom I’d put a $500 deposit. All I knew was she lived on the far side of Houston, an area I was totally unfamiliar with although I did learn her house was in the vicinity of a stretch of Highway 41, known for the mysterious abductions and deaths of multiple young women. So that immediately added a layer of ominousness to the situation. Meanwhile, she ghosted me.
That’s right. Cindy stopped communicating with me, disappeared.
That didn’t sit well. All I knew about Cindy was she was a trauma nurse. But, since I had sent her a Venmo for $500, I knew her last name and with that piece of information I was able to get her whole story. I learned exactly where she lived, how old she was and what she looked like.
Since I didn’t like the feeling of being scammed, I was furious. More than that: I was vengeful.
Up until now, I had never experienced this tit-for-tat, punitive side of my personality. But it was there, threaded into my psyche, and already I was planning how to get even with the unscrupulous Cindy.
I called HR at the place she worked, the Houston hospital system. They kept me on the phone for ten minutes, wanting me to read the texts that had gone back and forth between Cindy and me, to tell the whole story. When we were finished, they said they would “look into it.” “Will I ever hear what happens?” I asked. They said no, it would remain a private matter. “Well, then what should I do?” I asked.
They advised me to file a police report – which I did, though I never followed up on it (I figured reporting the woman to HR was enough). And that was the end of the story – I had done what I had set out to do, and could now forget all about Cindy.
But I couldn’t forget about my quest for a new dog. I was still itching to replace my precious Lucille, was still looking, and out of the blue I had a call from a friend, saying she’d located a year-old-Newfie for sale in Mexia, Texas. I was game, and so we agreed to drive up there. It would be a two hour drive, an adventure.