Adult Themes
Divorces end better... No, that's not quite right. It's not the divorce that's ending, is it. Really what's ending is the marriage. Let me begin again.
Marriages end better when the parties involved agree on how to split up their marital property. Otherwise, some bored judge will have to patiently hear hours of emotional arguments before using the gavel as a machete to thwack apart the marital estate. Despite the polite attention they give, most judges don't really care about property division because stuff is just stuff; money is just money. (Mind you, I'm not talking about children here. Children are not property. Children are people, with rights of their own, and the Court treats them accordingly.)
Usually property division just isn't that big of a deal. Each party is ordered to make a statement of financial disclosure, under oath, telling the Court exactly what property is owned together and separately. This includes all assets, the desirable stuff that is worth fighting over, such as retirement accounts, vacation homes, and Kitchen Aid mixers. The disclosure also includes all debts, the kind of thing parties fight to not get, like second mortgages, credit card debt, and the rest of the Rent-a-Center payments.
In theory, parties can exchange their financial information about assets and liabilities and all by themselves can come to an agreement as to who gets what portion of each. Most things don't offer much room for disagreement: bank accounts or credit card debts, for example, are very straightforward. The value of the account (or debt) is printed on a statements, and the numbers are what they are. The parties might argue about who gets the account (or who pays the debt), but there is no real room for disagreement as to the figure. Even real estate is really not that variable, because different appraisers will use basically the same formulae and tend to be within a few thousand dollars of one another.
But you have to remember that people getting divorced are often not in a mood to agree and typically they will disagree with a great deal of passive agressivess. The commonest way to do this is to dispute the values of items of personal property. Personal goods are wonderful things to argue about, largely because there's often no right answer as to value.
For example, is a 1950's waterfall bedroom suite a valuable antique, or is it just ugly used furniture you got for free from family? It depends whose column it's being added into. Generally, the party who hopes to keep more of the stuff on their side of the division will deliberately lowball the value of everything, to show the judge how little they're asking for; while the party who perceives the stuff as being "taken away" will put as high a value as possible on it, to show the judge how deeply they're being screwed. A party who doesn't want a particular item will put a very high value on it, to show the judge how generous they're being by letting the other party take it. There are endless ways to hide the balls.
That reminds me about a case where dogs were the root of the divorce. As I recall, he wanted to take pictures of her having sex with the family dog. That wasn't what caused the divorce though. The dog thing was going on for a long time before the divorce.
I think she said the dog stuff started on their honeymoon. From her perspective, there in the roomy motel suite with a king-size bed, it seemed like a reasonable request. After all, the dog was already used to sleeping in their bed and it wasn't the least bit camera-shy. With a little practice, everybody got the hang of it and things went swimmingly.
But as time went on, he wanted to add more diversity to his photo album. He persuaded her to try different and multiple dogs. Between the ones he borrowed and the ones he bought, their small house soon grew crowded. Chew toys of all description littered the floor. Tumbleweeds of dog hair gathered in all the corners, rocking gently in the breeze from the dog flap in the front door. Dog doo of every caliber carpeted the lawn, and eventually UPS had to stop home delivery because the carriers were distributing too many biscuits.
Over time the long nights took their toll on her. Day by day she grew wearier of the atmosphere in the home. She longed for the simpler days when she didn't have to use anti-flea shampoo in the shower, when she had no ringworm, and when rainy days didn't make the home stink of wet dog.
The day she finally lost it was the day the refrigerator motor burned out because its vent was plugged with dog hair. She was bent over in the fridge, reaching for the perishables to pack them in the cooler of ice she straddled, when the Great Dane came around the corner and spotted her. Being well trained in the bedroom, where yummy treats were the reward for a good doggie's performance, it assumed its customary position.
Sadly, there was no camera standing by to capture the ensuing scene. When the big dog jumped her, it knocked her face-first into the fridge. Her head and shoulders slid into the gap between two shelves, pinning her arms at her sides and mashing her face into a bowl of calf livers set aside for the dogs' supper. She kicked out wildly at the dog, but instead her foot connected with the cooler. It overturned and spilled twenty pounds of ice cubes across the linoleum.
It is true dogs have acute hearing, but even the sharpest have trouble telling the difference between poured-out ice cubes and poured-out kibble. On this day, every dog within earshot assumed the noise in the kitchen meant dinner was served. They gathered and circled like vultures just out of reach of the increasingly frustrated Great Dane, who was still trying to earn its treat despite the flailing and screeching.
No one saw exactly what happened after that, but it is true she filed for divorce at the courthouse a few hours later. She left a copy of the paperwork on the kitchen table for him, along with a meatball sub for his supper and a note of apology saying she just couldn't take it anymore and she was moving back to her mother's.
At the final hearing the parties had to explain a discrepancy in their financial disclosures. According to one affidavit (his), at the date of separation the couple owned one intact male Great Dane, as well as assorted smaller dogs. According to the other affidavit (hers), at the date of separation the Great Dane in question was not intact, but neutered.
Anybody can see that the value of a dog might change depending on whether or not it has its balls. The problem is, does it become more valuable or less valuable without them? It depends on your position.
In this case, the parties couldn't agree on what the dog was worth or who would take it. Ultimately the Court ordered him to take the dog to the local shelter, with the parties to each contribute half of the surrender fee.
He never did tell her how he liked the meatball sub she made him, on the day she moved out.