Emma’s Gets a Dog

Emma with foster dog, Sam, who was adopted by Sandra Brooks McCravy and Greg McCravy, Lawrenceville, Ga.

If you are new to this blog, you may want to read the posts “In a Nutshell” or go to July 2012 and read “Sending out a Letter.” My daughter Emma Katherine Roey lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then accused her mother of physically abusing her and poisoning her with DDT. As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story. Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me, Emma’s mom.

In 2012, after Emma moved to Ohio, Phill was enjoying the single life. He worked, going out of town during the week and bought a camper so he could attend RC airplane events such as SEFF, Joe Nall, etc. when he wasn’t working. He had reconnected with an old girlfriend from college as well.  He could come and go as he pleased without the responsibility of a family.  Since he had me removed from our home, he had the house and all our possessions.  He didn’t have to worry about moving, finding a job, finding a place to live, not having furniture, bedding, clothes, pots and pans, etc.  Life was good.

Phill had one of our two dogs, and I had the other, only because I could not have two dogs where I was living. With Emma gone, Phill made our 12 year old house dog a yard dog and left him outside 24 hours a day while he was out of town.  At this time, I didn’t know Emma had moved to Ohio, so I didn’t know how our poor dog was living.  Some neighbors later told me that they would go up to see him when Phill was gone. They were very concerned about this poor dog being left alone so much and suddenly being left outside in the extreme weather when he wasn’t used to it.

Phill decided the dog was too much bother, so he contacted me and told me I needed to come up with someplace for the dog to go. With the help of a couple of friends, Spike lived at a kennel until I was able to keep him, and I went to the kennel to walk him every day that I could. It wasn’t a great life, but he was fed and warm and got more attention from the kennel employees than he got at home. Also, if you know Emma’s history, this was the dog she physically abused and was cruel to, so as much as I didn’t want him living in a kennel, it was a safer place for him to be.

When I was removed from my home, we also had a foster dog, and at the time, Phill told the director of the rescue that he and Emma might adopt the dog, but he would not have been allowed to adopt the dog. That dog also went to a kennel until I took it with me to my sister’s in CT., and he was adopted up north. He got a wonderful home, and I am thankful I still her from his mom, so I get to keep up with him. Oddly though, before saying he wanted to adopt the dog, Phill claimed our neighbor (I’m assuming it was Judy Hall.) complained that the little dog (a Rat Terrier/mix) jumped up and bit her on the “ass” when she came over to let him out. The director of the rescue thought this sounded like an odd statement, and when she and I discussed it, both of us knowing how timid this dog was, it just didn’t sound like something he would do. This dog had been mauled by a large dog and nearly killed. He very, very shy, and it had taken months for him to come out of his shell even a little bit. He never showed any signs of aggression towards people or other animals. At the time, we thought Phill wanted to get rid of the dog, so he made up the “bite” story, and then later on he said he wanted to adopt him? Very strange.

Emma and foster dog, Willie, who was happy to sit with her while she worked on her homeschooling.

In Sept. of 2013, after discovering Emma’s lying about his family, Emma’s boyfriend, “Bud” broke up the relationship, and sent Emma packing. She headed home to daddy with her tail between her legs. (Sorry, couldn’t resist since this IS a dog story.)

How I found out about Emma’s little dog is more a story about Phill, but it is interesting, so I will share it here.

For over 10 years, I have volunteered with a dog/cat rescue, fostering dogs in my home (up until the divorce) and going to a local PetsMart on Saturdays to help with adoptions, doing home visits, running errands, helping with fundraisers, etc. For most of that time, Emma also volunteered and went with me to PetsMart on Saturdays. Every Saturday, I’d leave the house at the same time to go to PetsMart.

On Sat., June 28 2014, two days before what would have been our 30th wedding anniversary, Phill showed up at PetsMart. I happened to be working that day, so I missed it, but one of our volunteers, M., who knew Phill quite well, was the one to tell me about it. Since Phill often brought Emma and I lunch when we were volunteering, and sat and ate with us, he saw M. almost as much as we did, and he considered her a friend just as much as I did.  He did computer work for M., and she’d been to our home for holiday dinners and such.

M. was setting up for adoptions with another volunteer and she looked up to see Phill standing before her, nervous and sweating profusely. She said he asked if I was around, and she told him I was working. Phill said something about us not getting along well, and M. turned and walked away. M. was there the day Phill showed up with Emma in the car and tried to get me to come out to the car to talk to him so that I would violate the Temporary Protective Order he had taken out on me. She had no respect for Phill and wanted nothing to do with him. Our other volunteer had known Phill and Emma as well, and was also shocked to see Phill show up at PetsMart. Later, M. saw him walking through the store with a baby gate.

Phill knew exactly when I would be at PetsMart. As M. and I talked that night, we wondered why in the world Phill showed up at PetsMart when the odds were that I would be there. Phill could have gone to numerous other PetsMarts such as the one in Winder, Flowery Branch, or the Pet Co. about ¼ mile down the road. He could have gone to a WalMart in Winder, Hamilton Mill, Buford, or any other Walmart between his work at UPS in Doraville and home in Hoschton, as Walmat sells baby gates too. Why did he decide to come to that PetsMart on the day when I would be there. He could have gone early in the morning, knowing what time we set up, so he wouldn’t have had the chance to run into me, so why did he come then? When I was working on the 1st draft of writing this post, I sent it to Phill, and he e-mailed me that he had heard that the director of the rescue had quit, so he didn’t think we would be there. What is so funny about this statement is that all he had to do was to go on the website and he would have known that the director AND the rescue were still going strong, so I’m calling B.S! Nice try, Phill.

M. did not realize that it was two days before what would have been our 30th anniversary, and when I told her she felt that that must have been the reason, that Phill wanted to drive that knife a little deeper into my heart by showing up right before our anniversary. Since then, I’ve talked to a few other armchair psychologists, as well as a couple of professionals, and the consensus seems to be that Phill wanted to see me with his own eyes for some reason. Being a man, it probably had nothing to do with our anniversary. Phill probabaly didn’t even realize that it was our anniversary. True. He got my birthday wrong on the year I turned 30, and at that point we’d been married for 6 years! We both had forgotten our anniversaries before, but I didn’t think much of that because with his schedule, unless it was a big year, we didn’t do much for our anniversaries anyway. For our 23rd we’d taken a trip to Tybee for a few days, but that was only because Emma happened to be at camp that same week. (And boy was she mad when she found out we went to Tybee Island without her!) Other than a trip to Tybee one year, and splurging on a bottle of Dom Perrion for our 20th, we didn’t do much for our anniversaries. We had talked about a trip for our 30th, and I was looking forward to doing something special for it, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be.

Later, someone sent me a picture (Thank you, whoever you are.) of Emma’s little dog, Arya, and it is quite cute. I’m surprised she didn’t get something more aggressive though, since she claims to be in danger when her dad is out of town for work and she is home alone. A German shepherd or a Pit Bull might have been more appropriate.

Fortunately for Emma’s little dog, it’s got a great yard to run around in. When we bought the house, I insisted on fencing the back yard. We had two acres and about an acre of it is fenced. It was great when Emma was growing up because it was a woodsy yard, and it didn’t worry me if Emma got out of sight. Phill and I figured that would be our last home, and I knew I would always have dogs, so we put up a 5 ft. chain link fence. It was really wonderful to have. (Emma’s old dog just has a little area about 10 x 15 ft fenced, but hey, we make do with what we have.) Part of the yard was open, and when I took some agility classes with one of our dogs, Phill got into building me some equipment. I’m not sure why, as I did not plan to compete in agility, as it can get quite expensive, it was just something fun to try. He was so enthused about it, I didn’t have the heart to tell him it wasn’t something I really wanted. Maybe it’s that guy thing about men and power tools. Well, as it turned out, even after I stopped going to agility, I loved having the equipment because our dogs, as well as our foster dogs enjoyed doing the runs and jumps. Unfortunately, Phill didn’t finish the wood properly, and it all fell apart after a few years.

The a-frame Phill built for the dogs in the backyard of our Deer Creek home in Hoschton. Phill Roey. Emma Roey

I would love to know what the professionals think about Phill coming to PetsMart when he knew I would more than likely be there, to buy a babygate? I wonder what Dr. Richard Brown (Applied Psychological Health, Athens, Ga.) , Dr. Genie Burnett (Manna Treatment and Counseling, Duluth, Ga.) , and Suzie McGarvey North Gwinnett Counseling Associates, Suwanee, Ga., Lanier Counseling, Buford, Ga.) all think? But then, to be honest, I’d rather have the opinion of someone whom I consider to be a little more professional.