Walking Disaster

If there is one thing you can count on my mother for, it is the ability to escalate everything to eleven. Some people get plastic surgery — she gets all of it. Some people experience a lawsuit once in their life (if ever) — she has been directly responsible for at least six. Some people believe in psychics and mediums for themselves — she hires them for her animals. Looking back on this occasion, I think this animal psychic might be my new role model because her ability to bullshit people out of their money to that extent is nothing short of heroic.

This was when I was around twelve or thirteen, not yet old enough to understand how much was wrong with her, but I still remember thinking to myself, “this isn’t real. Is this real? Is this happening?” A sentiment later shared out loud by my friend as soon as the psychic started talking. I grew up riding horses, as did my mom and considered myself to be a very dedicated equestrian, but even I had my limits. I don’t remember who gave my mom this idea, but it was a collaboration between her and another mom at the barn. All of us kids experienced the rare phenomenon of the “collective cringe” that day, wondering if it was time to start researching retirement communities for our mothers who had lost any reality. I also remember the lady showing up looking like a cheap knockoff of a Stevie Nicks impersonator. Ryan Murphy would’ve loved her. After taking in the aura of the barn, and trying to gauge how much she could charge, this lady began her spiel.

She started with my mom’s horse and immediately declared that he wanted a cat. He was lonely, needed company, and would prefer a cat because they’re more sophisticated…according to the horse. The rest of the full barn and the constant dogs running around was obviously not enough socializing for him, so a cat was what he needed for his mental health. Luckily, cooler heads prevailed and stopped my mother from calling the nearest cat breeder and buying a soon-to-be feral cat over the phone, but that bullet was barely dodged. Other highlights include learning that my horse was super sensitive, and his feelings were hurt by those who listen to music while working him out or finding out that my friend’s horse was jealous of people who get to spray champagne after a win and would like to be able to try something bubbly the next time he wins, although he preferred Guinness. My question of how a horse could read a name-brand beer enough to “prefer” it went purposefully unanswered. She continued with the scam until she had gone through all the horses she could. She wasn’t qualified to be a psychic for humans, so she took the logical next step and started on the dogs.

At this time, I had two massive mountain dogs, one of whom was a genius. He knew how to roll down the window in the car, never needed a leash, and was our litmus test for any new person that came into my brother and I’s lives. The other one was really pretty. He was so much fun, and I loved him, but there were times when we were sure he was either blind or deaf because of his inability to figure out doors or walls. He was confused by water and shoes in equal measures. My personal favorite is when he wouldn’t be able to figure out how to change the direction he was sitting. So, when it came time for the psychic to move on to speaking to the dogs, I thought even she would be able to read them correctly as soon as she looked into his eyes and saw his brain shut off. But to my delight, she took one look at the handicapped dog and immediately declared him a genius. My mother tried to ask the animal psychic if she was getting mixed signals, and was getting that impression from the other one? To which this lady doubled down and proceeded to spew some nonsense about how if he was a person, he’d be a physics professor or some shit. This is when I lost all control, because as gullible and ridiculous as my mother is and was, even she had to come to terms with the fact that she just dropped hard-earned money (not hers, obviously, but someone had worked hard for that cash) on what can only be described as a colossal waste of time. I did not need to revel in that failure as much as we did, but what can you do?

For an embarrassing amount of time, my friends, my brother, and anyone who was involved in that story dined out on the ridiculousness of it all. Even when it comes up now, twelve years later, most of us can’t help but reminisce on how weird everything was. I guess that’s the one silver lining to her crazy? As disbelieving as this story seems, it is entirely true, as are most of my mother’s shenanigans. See my other weird mom story when she had me arrested for fun, or stay tuned for the next story when I discuss her lovely habit of wearing white to weddings, or her giant fake lashes, or even her fake wedding!