(Mordechai T. Abzug) wrote:
> Couldn't she knock on your door, or call your cell phone, before
> breaking in?
I was involved in a neighborhood intervention a while back. I was in
my backyard with the dogs and a woman came through my backyard
neighbor's yard and asked if I'd seen Juanita lately. I hadn't, which
wasn't all that unusual, but I came around to see what was happening.
We knocked on doors and windows, and yelled .. and we could hear her
little pomeeranian running frantically from the door and around the
house. The guy who mowed her yard was walking by and he stopped to see
what was going on. Then my next door neighbor ... and she called
911 ... and before long, we had 2 firetrucks, an ambulance and several
cop cars. The fireguys and the cops were looking for any way *not* to
break in, but finally, the fireguys bashed in the window of her back
door and got in. They took Juanita away in an ambulance and she died a
week later in the hospital. The yard mower's mother took the dog, and
we all attended the funeral about a month later because it took that
long to get someone to sign the burial forms ... a 3d cousin she
hadn't seen in 50 years.Oh a tv re****ter showed up to ask what was
happening. He wasn't interested in a little old lady being taken to
the hospital, so he left. The people hired to clean the place out
found several wills, unsigned ... and several living wills, also
unsigned ... which might have done some good if she'd ever signed 'em
and put them in an obvious place. She was on life sup****t for that
week, and died the day they took her off it ... and her living will
made it very clear she'd not want to be on a respirator. In lieu of
family or knowledge of her wishes, the ethics committee of the
hospital made the decision to remove all the machinery. I visited her
at the hospital every other day till she died, and thanks to those
privacy laws ... it took me 3 hours to find out she'd died from a
supervisor at the hospital ... everyone told me to go to somewhere
else until I lighted at the admissions desk and threw myself on the
mercy of the bureaucrats.
The funeral was interesting ... just neighbors ... the lawn guy
cried ... turns out Juanita had arranged for 2 limos for the mourners,
so we made use of those. She had written her own obituary, but the
executor refused to publish it because someone might break into the
empty house. She was crazy as a pet coon, but she made her way in
life, so to speak ... and she often did speak ... very loudly and
profanely through the windows or doors ... at anything that happened
to displease her at the time. Crazy Juanita, I called her. RIP.
Oh, the dog ... [named Precious] was given to the lawn guy's daughter
and is, re****tedly, a happy little guy.
Jerri
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