Sleep Well, Sweet Friend

We never wanted you to go, either, Codes.

We love you.

 

Confusion

The Codes

This post is for prompt 21 at mindlovemisery. The subject is My Story and we are to answer a question of our choosing. I’m asking, “From where does my love/hate response come?”

READER WARNING - The link at the end of this piece does not go to a happy place so beware.

My Story 

I had a dog. I’m not referring to the dog I have now; not the dog in the picture above. I’m talking about a dog I had as a young child when we lived in Fayetteville, North Carolina where my brother was born. This was during the time when I was still unbroken, still whole, still my genuine self.

I don’t remember this dog. I don’t know her name. What I know of her comes from brief stories my parents told me about her. She was a Cocker Spaniel. I’m guessing this is why I think this breed is so cute and happy. When I see one of these dogs, I get a warm and fuzzy feeling that I find disproportionate to the current moment and quite disconcerting.

At four, I would burst through the front door, knocking into my dog so that she would tumble away from me across the floor. Laughing, I’d chase her, scoop her close to my little body and hug her tight. We’d sit together in mutual, innocent joy.

Most dogs make me uncomfortable. During this same time period, one of our neighbors had a German Sheppard. I remember it being so much bigger than me. It looms in my memory as an all consuming monster; a Cerberus in my nightmares. It rose up, put a paw on each of my shoulders, sniffed my face then bit me on the cheek. Large dogs always get my blood pumping and my adrenaline flowing from fear.

So, like most things for me, dogs are part of the ongoing push-me-pull-me relationship I have life’s experiences.

My parents got rid of my dog when my father’s orders sent him to Germany. My mother, brother and I followed him to Frankfurt where I lost myself.

Sunday 160 – A Camping We Will Go

~ click on the image to make it biggerer ~


Five days off in a row make

the Nessa a very happy camper:

reading, camp fires, & woo woo’s.

The only thing missing is sleeping late

but puppies don’t vacation.

Sunday 160 - Tell a story in 160 Characters,

Hosted by Monkey Man – Click Here

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday Wideo

"Fun Cody"
Video Copyright 7-19-08 by Vanessa V. Kilmer
(No sound, 17.53 seconds.)
WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

ABC Wednesday - F is for Fudge, Flowers, Fur and Finally Flakes

This is the Fudge cake I made for my brother's birthday.
These were my Valentine's Day Flowers.
This is The Codes with snow flakes on his fur.
And we Finally got snow.

Find other ABC Wednesday participants at Mrs. Nesbitt's Place.

Get a belly laugh at Humor-Blogs dot com.

Pity Party Passed

Mercury being retrograde during October and November this year is really doing a number on those around me, which is effecting me and it’s also doing a number on me personally. I haven’t even had the energy or time to check the comments you’ve so kindly been leaving.

Just so you can all have a pity party for me and mine, I will tell you my sweet little puppy hurt his leg last Thursday and I was too sick to take care of him. I had to call my husband home from work (which I never, ever have done) so he could take the Codes to the vet. The Codles had no serious injury; it looks like he slipped on the tile floor and twisted his knee. He and I whined for several days. Make with the little violin thingy, go ahead.

So, I am recovering, as are all of the other people who have been bombarded around me. I am horribly behind now on NaNoWriMo, but do not despair, there’s still time to catch up there, too. These past two weeks have been a lesson to me that sometimes I need to go with the flow more instead of trying to bulldoze my way through things.

The weirdness factor is still operating but I think I know what that is about too (extra sleep from sickness sometimes has advantages.)

I’m sorry for neglecting you all, but it could not be helped. I will make the rounds this week and catch up. Here’s to hope.