Jennie Read Online Free PDF Page B

waiting to be fed, fretting and hooting and chattering away. When she got older she got more impatient. She screamed and hooted as if we were starving her to death. Jennie just loved her food.
    At first we fed her baby food. But it wasn’t long before she insisted on eating what we ate. She wanted to do everything we did. The food on her plate was never good enough; she had to eat ours. Most every morning, she ate a slice of buttered toast, a banana, and a bowl of oatmeal and honey. Once in a while she would eat a piece of bacon, but she didn’t like meat that much. Chicken and pork she would eat, but nothing else.
    She looked so funny when she ate! You should have seen her, with her little black eyes peeping above the tabletop. Oh my goodness. And her wispy hair stuck up from the dome of her head in the funniest way, and she made these little crunching noises as she ate her toast. And those jug ears! They stuck out and looked like big pink Christmas lights when the sun was behind them. [Laughs.]
    She was always suspicious about her food. Once in a while, you see, she would bite into something she hated. She sniffed at her food constantly. I suppose she was never sure when that piece of toast might turn into, say, a hamburger with ketchup. She loathed hamburger with ketchup! And pickles. If there was pickle in there somewhere, watch out! When she got something she didn’t like, she picked it up and threw it as hard as she could into the dining room. Tomatoes, baked beans, lobster, steak—all got thrown into the dining room at one time or another. I think she got that idea from watching the Three Stooges on television. They were always throwing food on that horrid program. Jennie could be so trying at times. There was a streak of ketchup on the kitchen ceiling from one of Jennie’s hamburgers. It stayed there for years, long after Jennie was gone. It used to make me feel so sad, but I could never bring myselfto get a ladder and scrub it off. It was like a memory; you hate to see them go. Memories, I mean.
    Jennie looked so solemn when she was eating that you couldn’t help laughing. When she chewed, the little hairs on her chin moved up and down and her eyebrows contracted as if she were thinking great thoughts. Well perhaps she was! After us, food was the most important thing in her life.
    When she finished eating, there was no separating Jennie from her plate, cup, and spoon for washing. Heavens no. She guarded those with her life. She thought she would starve to death if those disappeared. She had a fit when I tried to wash them. They got so dirty, so absolutely filthy, that I was positive Jennie was going to get salmonella poisoning and spread it to the whole family. Finally Hugo waited under the tree one morning and stole them when Jennie dropped them. You should have heard her screaming. After that she let us have them, but she always kept her beady eyes fixed on them while I rinsed and loaded them in the dishwasher. Then she would wait right next to the dishwasher until they were done. The minute it was opened she would be reaching in there, rummaging about and rattling things around to get her precious tableware.
    After three years she began rinsing the dishes herself. She wasn’t exactly the most thorough dishwasher, but she had her style. First she licked the plates clean, and then she washed them. I can’t begin to tell you how many dishes she broke. But when we had guests, the highlight of the evening was when Jennie cleared the table and rinsed the dishes. People could not get over the fact that an animal could do such a thing. They would always say, Will you look at that! We have to get one of our own! And then Jennie would drop a stack of dishes. Or take a bite out of a bar of soap. And that would be the end of that kind of talk! Hugo took a marvelous picture of her washing the dishes. Now let’s see, where are those pictures? Do you want to see any?
    Those first few years with