Frank tells everyone he meets that he’s a retired Navy veteran, and eventually someone discovered that he enlisted twice, each time serving for four years which is not long enough to qualify. He gets caught lying a lot and so people figured that it was just another one. However, later he said that he was honorably discharged because he is disabled due to a brain injury. Previously, before that piece of information became known, people thought that he was born developmentally disabled.
He looks, acts and sounds normal but he can’t accomplish anything. For example, he tried to mow his front lawn and it was a disaster. He started the lawn mower inside the garage and ran over an area rug, and the mower sucked the rug up into the chopper blade. He ignored the problem and kept going out to the driveway, and then it died. He yelled, “KATIE!” I ran over to see what was the matter. By then he had tipped the mower over and he asked me to reach through the chopper blade area and pull the carpet out.
For an entire year his home office was jammed with dozens of boxes piled nearly to the ceiling. He finally hired his friend Rita at church to help him unpack and then he forgot about her and he asked me to do it. I didn’t know about her. As I began to unpack his boxes he said, “Look for a pair of tan paints that has a loaded gun in the pockets.” I laughed, “Why didn’t you put it in your safe?” He explained that he used to carry it in his pocket at all times no matter what, and that when he moved from his last house he threw his pants in one of the boxes and forgot that his gun was inside.
We live in a very low crime neighborhood, and his last neighborhood was even safer than this one. I asked him, “Why did you carry a gun everywhere?” He responded almost defensively, “I believe in the Second Amendment!” I calmly replied, “other people do too but they don’t keep a gun in their pocket everywhere they go. Where do you go where you would need a gun?” He replied, “I don’t know.”
There was a separate pile of boxes and junk in the living room, and as I sorted through it I found a black ski mask. He doesn’t ski. In fact, he probably hasn’t seen more than one inch of snow since he left the Navy about fifteen years ago.
He has three dogs and the big one poops in the house everyday. During a brief visit I saw a plastic grocery bag hanging on a dining room chair, and inside was a giant heap of dog poop.
He’s a freebie hoarder and so there’s a lot of useless junk around his house, including piles of free sauce packets from fast food restaurants all over his kitchen and dining room which I put into plastic zip lock bags. He leisurely shops at the double-discount grocery outlets and if he sees something that’s Cheap he buys about ten of them, even if it’s something that he’ll never use.
Once he called me to say that he was at Burger King and asked if I wanted anything. I asked for a combo #1. He responded that he had coupons and so I told him to buy whatever was on the coupons. He brought me one hamburger by itself. However, for himself he bought a value meal plus a big container of chicken nuggets and fries. I didn’t say anything because I remembered that he’s mentally disabled.
And then he ran out of dry dog food. He still had canned dog food but he was afraid of running out and so he gave two of the dogs half a can each and mixed in old moldy bread that he had picked up for free from the American Legion weeks earlier.
What qualifies such a man to adopt a dog from a rescue organization? An Australian Shepherd rescue farm gave him Roxie for about three hundred dollars. Apparently, he must have told them that he’s a responsible guy who retired from the Navy, and they didn’t do a background check. What’s more, now he has three dogs; he adopted the other two from their former owners who were forced to give them away due to their housing problems.
He has two children (older teenagers) who live nearby but they might as well be on the other side of the planet because they won’t visit him. When they were little he got into a fight with their mother and he told the police that she deliberately burned him with a cigarette in order to get her arrested and thrown in jail. In my opinion, if his story were true then she wouldn’t have 100% full physical custody of their children. She has been raising them by herself for over ten years. He doesn’t even have visitation. Each child has his own cell phone and occasionally he calls and leaves messages. The younger son calls him back and the older one ignores him as if he doesn’t even exist.