I will admit. I’m a soft touch in lots of ways. I have had my heart broken
I had a Dog named Skipper for 18 years. He was the ugliest dog you ever saw. In fact I entered him in an Ugly Dog Contest. He didn’t win but HIS picture was the one the Fargo Forum put on the front page news about the contest.
I loved that dog and he loved me. We moved him around more than he wanted to. As he got older, lost his hearing got feeble, conventional wisdom said to put him out of his “Misery”. But he would sit at my feet and sleep.
One day in 1989 June he died. Our whole family by happenstance was there. We buried him. I prayed. I cried. I still miss him. I have the little sandstone Grave Marker my two sons made.
I have never been able to bring myself to get another dog. We dog sit sometimes. I enjoy having a dog around. I just can’t give my heart away like that again. If I let myself love like that again I might get it broken.
We had a cat for 20 years. (We take good care of our animals)
EBNER. A big gray consultant “Male” Tabby. (neutered)
He spoke English. If he wanted to go out he said OWWMWMMOW,
If he wanted something to eat he said FONEMMMOERW, if he was in pain he said NENOWWOWOOW. Or maybe we spoke cat. I’m not sure.
He was very affectionate in a kneading drooling kind of way. They tell me that has to do with being weaned too early.
Who knows.
He was fun, later he became very ill. I don’t kill cats, dogs or kids because of inconvenience.
When he died I was sad. I also couldn’t see myself loving another cat that deeply again.
When our boys left home, I cried.
I love too deeply; give my heart away too completely. I am therefore vulnerable to the pain I read in Julie’s blog on “Leaving”.
I don’t have the answer. If loving means hurting, are we better to have loved? or not. Poets sometimes have the answer. I am going to the last of the Shakespeare presentations for our season tickets tonight. Romeo and Juliet. Certainly those two would have been better off without having loved, right? Well they would have survived, right? But what’s it all about if not about loving, giving your heart away and having it broken sometimes? I am not full of answers. Poets, painters, preachers and a few playwrights catch a glimpse of the mystery once in a while.
Meanwhile I’m not ready for another dog just yet.
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