A Hint of Spring

scenic view of landscape against sky

Photo by Nikolai Ulltang on Pexels.com

There was something on the air that early February day.  It was a whisper of Spring despite the day being buried in an enduring and harsh winter.  There was a gentle hint of a new beginning, of fresh life, of a healing heart choosing to look up to the sun and no longer remaining frozen like the snow that buried the world that cold, dead season.

For the first time in months she wore a smile that she discovered was genuine, having unknowingly set aside the painted mask of happiness needed for daily survival over the past months.  For the first time in years she laid down the smothering baggage of a broken friendship, a relationship that she had felt defined her for so long.  That broken friendship had become an identity she wore as a shield against life, as mourning clothes, as an epitaph on her heart.  Yet for a brief moment on that chilly, sunny day she saw a life beyond the past, she saw the possibility of tomorrow, she saw hope.  For a brief moment she thought of friendship and did not mourn.

The bright sun shone on a new day, a turned page in the book of life.  She knew, in the few simple moments that he was before her, that a new chapter had begun to be written in her life.  Like the sunflowers she planted each May, she saw the possibility of a friendship growing strong and blossoming quickly.  She saw all of this as he walked across the rocky parking lot, get into his truck, and drive away.  She took a deep breath, the first breath of newborn life, for that day felt like she was born again, born out of years of blind sadness and into possibility.

He was not the one who had broken her heart in the cobweb-covered past.  He was not the one who had stolen her voice, and cast a deep shadow over her spirit.  He was not the man who had shredded the very heart that she had given him.  This man was the one that unexpectedly reopened her eyes to the future.  He was the one who had reawakened her voice.

Over the following days and weeks, she reveled in her freshly reborn smile.  She sought out again the connection of friendship that she had, for so long, fearfully shied away from.  She opened her heart again after thinking for years that an open heart would never be possible again.  She opened he heart to him.  She fearlessly made herself vulnerable to this man who had brought the Spring back to her years of Winter.  Like a child jumping into a fresh rain puddle, she jumped into his life blindly with both feet.  In return, she was rewarded by the sight of him dancing with her in that puddle.

Their connection was immediate and strong.  They were both surprised at how comfortable their friendship felt, as safe and welcoming as a soft and well-worn blanket comforting a child in a storm.  Dark clouds would try to roll into her heart and convince her that he would break her heart just as it had happened in the long-gone dusty past.  She would mutter to herself that they could not remain friends.  But the fright she experienced in dark solitude was burned away by the sunshine he flooded her life with each day.

And it all began on the February day that whispered a secret on the breeze, a secret they would both quickly learn.  It all began the day that he fell into her life, and she leaped into his.  It all began the day that Spring was a hint in the chilly winter air.


Photo by picjumbo.com on Pexels.com

Heather L. Flood


Haunted Dreams (poem)

So long gone
So many yesterdays ago
Only to return in a flood
Leaving damage that only I’ll know
Where have you been hiding
How did you remain unseen
Why did you come back to haunt me
where I couldn’t escape you, in a dream
Why did you taunt me
with words I’ve longed to hear
Why did you get my hopes up
Why were you so sincere
Dream is not reality
But still my heart has held hope
Only to get slapped in the face
When the dream ends and you go
Your wound is still visible
The hurt still stings
Despite the passing of time
You’re not absent from my dreams
Only when my eyes are open
do I escape your memory
But I close my eyes, let down my guard
and you kill me again in my dreams

Heather L. Flood

The Path (poem)

I fell, one night,
into a simple dream
An unhindered path
blanketed in grass, pristine
A gentle breeze at my back
beneath a sky so clear
In the distance a bird
singing a melody, clear
Step by step I, forward, moved
not knowing where or why
Maybe fate would put me
where it would decide
Scenes from my history
dotted the landscape in brief
but were left behind silently
with little pain or grief
The sun shone on my face
masking my destination from my eyes
as I continued fearlessly forward
A new future, in a dream, disguised
But then a second path converged
and on it a person came into sight
Where are they going on the path in my dream
Who am I dreaming of in the middle of the night
Conversation started
Laughter joyously rang
And on that converged path
new friendship began that day
What began as a simple dream
on an unknown path, so new
Turned into the path, the moment,
that led my life to you

Heather L. Flood

Inescapable (poem)

I could walk for a thousand years
But still not escape your eyes
I could sleep a million deaths
And still see your smile
I could rip off my offending ears
But your voice will always be there
Just as my fingers scream with desire
To tangle in your hair
My heart could speed toward explosion
But in its final moments still beat for you
You’re an addiction, inescapable
Killing me with every part of you

Heather L. Flood

Six and Two

Grief is a difficult experience to work through.  Everyone experiences grief differently.  When someone is working through grief we often like to jump in with words of advice that we hope will comfort the person.  “Don’t cry because you lost the person.  Smile that they were in your life to begin with.”  “Time will heal this hurt in your heart.”  “You’ll see them again one day.”  Blah, blah, blah!  Empty words that do not comfort the person feeling the hurt.  All those words do is inflate the person who says them, making them feel useful and important in a moment when there are no words that can help at all.

Some people work through their grief quickly.  Others bury their grief, never deal with it, and years later it comes back to smack them in the face like a brick wall.  Out of nowhere, when they least expect it, it all comes flooding in demanding to be dealt with in that moment.  The longer grief is delayed the more it grows and becomes more difficult to work through.

I am not writing this to lecture on the benefits of working through grief in a timely fashion.  How everyone deals with their moments of grief is completely up to them.  What I want to write about today is that I believe that my period of grief has finally come to an end.  It’s been almost two years.  That seems like a very long time, even to me, to mourn, but something very small slowed down my healing.  Hope.

Here’s my story . . .

Eight years ago I met a man who I came to think of as my best friend.  I can look back now and see that I inflated his importance in my life.  At the time though Brian quickly became my world.  I can name the exact moment that we became friends.  It was a Saturday afternoon at work.  He was on the air in one studio and I was on the air in another studio.  We were friends on Facebook and I had shared a post about Drum Corps International.  Brian came down the hall to my studio and asked, “you like DCI, too?”  That was the moment.  We became friends.

Over the next six years Brian and I shared our lives.  We talked about everything.  We laughed.  We cried.  We fought.  We had a period where our stubbornness kept us from speaking for four months.  I was there with him through his bouts of depression.  He was there when I got territorial and jealous, because I felt like nobody was worthy enough for him.  I went through a period where I felt like I had to protect him from everyone because everyone was bound to hurt him.  He was tender.  He was fragile.  He had unhealed wounds that needed to be nursed, and I was the only one that could nurse those wounds.  But truth was that he was not tender or fragile.  He did have wounds, but I was not the person to help him heal them.  Complete truth be told, I needed him to be broken because that was the foundation that our friendship was built on.  If he wasn’t broken then I had no place in his life and I couldn’t fathom that happening.

I molded the friendship into what I felt I needed to complete my life.  This was best seen when he would get a new girlfriend.  Competition!  Rather than trying to get along with his new girlfriend, I would turn into a raging ball of jealousy.  I would shut him out.  I would speak negatively of his girlfriends.  What I was trying to do was make him see that I was the only female that he needed in his life.  What I was actually doing was showing him that I was not a female that he needed in his life at all.  I can see that now.  I couldn’t see that at the time.

Three years ago my best friend found a relationship with Jesus Christ.  I had already found that relationship a few months earlier, and so when he got saved and baptized my be best friend became my brother.  This could not have made me happier.  Life was perfect in our friendship.  I had the privilege of watching him grow into a man of Christ.  He was starting to shed the demons that he had carried for so many years.  He was discovering his self-worth, and he was searching for his purpose on this earth.  His transformation was such a thing of beauty to watch that it increased my faith exponentially.  But a person can not serve two masters.

God brought a woman into Brian’s life that was obviously molded just for him.  Their romance was nothing short of whirlwind.  They married just a few months after they started dating.  Our friendship came to an end six months later.  Yes, I am guilty of encouraging Brian to follow where God was leading him, to marry the woman God put before him, and then turning on Brian and his new wife and trying to convince him that his wife was bat crap crazy.

My routine held up to the end . . . when Brian needed me I made sure I was there, but when Brian didn’t need me then I ran him down and ran down whomever it was that was in his life.

Two years ago Brian walked out of work, and he walked out of our friendship.  I took it hard, and I placed all the blame on him.  I was the victim and he was the piece of crap that threw me and our six-year friendship away like it was an empty burger wrapper.  I cried.  I yelled.  I poured out my anger and grief in my writing.  Much of that can be found in posts from the last two years.  In short, I mourned.  But my mourning was misdirected because I was placing all the blame on him, and I was mourning as if I had no part in how the end came.  Today, though, I can look back over the past eight years . . . six years of friendship, and two years since the end . . . and I can finally see why he left.  I can finally see what my part was, and I can finally see that I was the cause of the end I so desperately tried to avoid.

I say all of that to say this:  I have been given another chance.  Not with Brian, but with someone else.  A new person has been brought into my life and the connection was fast and strong.  Instant friendship from the day that we met.  It’s a bit scary to be starting this path all over again.  I know that I am over thinking everything about this friendship, overanalyzing, questioning, seeking affirmation, but I am so scared of messing up again, of messing up another friendship.  I don’t trust myself.  I don’t trust myself to not go bat crap crazy again.  I don’t trust myself to not become jealous again.  I don’t trust myself to turn on him and drive him away.  The only thing I can do is try and learn from my mistakes, the mistakes that I made with Brian, and then take everything one day at a time.  Everything in me is screaming to guard myself, not to jump in, to build a wall around my heart, to protect myself from getting hurt again.  But the truth is that Brian is not the one that hurt me.  I am the one that hurt me, and the only person I need protection from is myself.

I am no longer mourning a friendship that Brian ran out on, that Brian threw away.  I am no longer mourning something that he destroyed.  It took two years for me to finally see the truth behind that happened.  Now I am mourning the friendship that I brought to an end, and I am hoping from the ashes of that friendship that a new friendship can be built on the healed wounds that I inflicted on my own heart.

Until next time . . .

Solace searching


How do I write about you when I’m not allowed to even say your name?

How can I pour out my heart in the only way I know how when I have to guard my heart against you?

How can I speak of your eyes or your voice, your smile or your laugh, when the joy they bring me has to be held as a secret?

How do I voice what my soul is feeling when I’m not supposed to feel this way?

How can I look at you, speak to you, when it’s you I need to be running from?

How can I reconcile what is a desire to the reality of life?

How do I let go of the dream when it was never mine to begin with?

How do I bridge the gap between what is and what could be?

How do I turn away when you unknowingly keep me turned toward you?

How do I live a life with you where you aren’t all that I see?

How do I end what should have never began?

Googling friendship in the middle of the night

I’m currently having another sleepless night.  You know the kind of night where you just lay in bed, flipping and turning, pulling the covers over you only to kick them back off.  Arm under the head.  One leg kicked out to the side.  On your back.  On your stomach.  Adjust the pillow.  Stick one foot out of the blankets.  Sleep is just not coming tonight.

So then your mind starts to just wander.  You think about things you need to do tomorrow, this weekend, next week, next month, next year.  You make your grocery list.  You think about which bills are going to be due soon.  Is it time to get the oil changed in your car?  What kind of flowers are you going to plant in your garden this year?  That cat video on Facebook was so funny.  Do you have clean socks for work tomorrow?  Froot Loops are the greatest breakfast cereal ever.  One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish.  I do not eat green eggs and ham.  I do not eat them, Sam I am . . . damn you, Dr. Seuss!

green eggs one fish two fishThat is where I am right now.  I’m stuck in a cycle of nonsensical thoughts and Dr. Seuss ramblings.  Sleepless nights are so much fun!  I much prefer the crazy-ass dreams that come after watching a random movie or reading the book of Revelation in the Bible.

One thought popped into my head, and it wouldn’t pop back out.  Friendship.  Have you ever really given much thought to how friendship works.


Off all the people you encounter in a day . . . at the gas station, at the grocery store, at the gym, at work, anywhere . . . why are we only friends with the select few people in our lives?  There are a few hundred people who go to my church.  I talk with many of them, but I am really and truly friends with only a handful of them.  Why?  What makes one person get deemed as STATUS:  ACQUAINTANCE ONLY!  Yet another person in the exact same social setting is suddenly your new bestie.

There is always that defining “me, too” moment in friendships.

“I hate carrots.”  “Me, too!”

“I think Elvis is the greatest musician to ever live.”  “Me, too!”

“I celebrate Pi Day every year.”  “Me, too!”

That opens the doorway to discussion about other things you have in common.  Before you know it, you and that person are like Siamese twins, connected by your snarky senses of humor.

But what about the people in your life that you really don’t have that much in common with.  That person who always disagrees with everything you say and think, but still you couldn’t imagine your life without their input?  Th two of you lacked that “me, too” moment, but you’re still friends.  Why?  What is the connection?  What drew your cerebellum to their cerebellum and made you friends?

I’ve had plenty of “me, too” friends.  Those are the easy friendships.  Tiffany, Jon, Tim, Brian, HollieJo . . . just to name a few.  They, and many other “me, too” friends have come through my life.  In most cases I don’t know how or even why we first spoke.  But whatever the reason, that first conversation obviously had a moment of fireworks and glitter and angels singing as one of us cried emphatically, “me, too.”

But then there are the non-me-too friends.  Bill, Bobby, John . . . the ones that have tested my patience, made me shake my head, argued with me, and broadened my life beyond my own little everyday world.  There was no fireworks, glitter, angels singing, or anything during the first conversation with any of those people.  There was a heavy sigh, possibly a collective groan, definitely a raised and defiant eyebrow.  There were heated discussions, and loud arguments.  There were toes stepped on and feelings hurt.  And yet we were friends.  Why?

Of all the people in the world, off all the people I see on a weekly or even daily basis, why am I friends with some people and not others.  In an effort to find out the answer to how friendship works I took my question to the one and only source that is the authority on EVERYTHING . . . Google!  On a side note:  googling how friendship works is about as useful as googling your symptoms when you feel ill.  I still don’t know how friendship works, but I’m pretty sure that I’m dying.

The Care and Maintenance of Friendship at psychcentral.com

How to Maintain a Friendship at wikihow.com

The 3 Requirements of All Healthy Friendships at huffingtonpost.com

What is Friendship? at people.howstuffworks.com

10 Ways to Make (and Keep) Friendships as an Adult at psychologytoday.com

Making Good Friends – Tips for Meeting People and Making Meaningful Connections at helpguide.org

And, of course, what would any google search be without an entry from everyone’s favorite user-edited online encyclopedia . . .

Friendship at Wikipedia

You know what I learned from all of these articles?


It will forever remain an unanswered question for the ages.  Sleep will continue to be elusive and I will continue to listen to my Elvis clock tick as I wonder how friendship really works.

Until next time . . .

The day God stepped in

“Hey, God, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to do this thing.  I know it’s something that you would totally not want me to do, but it’s something that I want to do, so, yeah, I’m just going to go ahead and do it.  I’ll deal with your disappointment and my own guilt later, okey dokey?  Thanks.”

“I love you, child.  I know that I gave you free will, and that I can’t stop you from making what will only be a bad decision.  I know you are better than this.  I will never turn my back on you, and I will be here waiting for you with open arms when you are ready to come back to me.”

“Yeah, thanks God.  I’ll see you later.

Though this is not a word-for-word account of the conversation I had with God yesterday, it is pretty dang close.  It was definitely not one of the finer moments in my walk with Christ, but I everyone has moments when they get in the flesh, when they stumble and fall.  When you are on the ground you have two choices as how to proceed.  You can either choose to stay on the ground or you can choose to get up.  Nobody can make that decision for you.  God will let you stay down or he will help you get up, but He will never force you to do anything that goes against your free will, that you don’t want to do.

Mine was not a slow fall, but it’s a fall I have taken before.  Though I didn’t fall as hard as I did a few years ago, it was still a fall.  I know the exact day that I tripped, and that was the day that I started tuning God.

My weakness has always been sex.  I have always been the girl that they guys wanted to be only be friends with.  I was always the girl they went to for advice about their relationships with other girls.  On many occasions they said, “oh, she is like a sister to me.”  Those weren’t really the words a girl wants to hear when the feelings she has toward the guy are more than those of sisterly love or friendship.  I learned that guys wanted to hang out with me if I let them sleep with me.  I had more than my fair share of promiscuous relationships.  It’s not something I am proud of, but it is a part of my history, a part of who I am today.  I can’t change the way the story starteed, but I can change the way it ends.

Thirteen years ago my husband and I got married.  Six years ago I started my first extramarital affair.  It was purely sex and nothing more.  A year later I started my second affair.  There was no sex, but it was an emotional affair.  I could say that it was just as bad as the physical relationship with the other guy, but I believe that it actually may have been worse, because the emotional connection that I should have been giving to my husband, I was instead giving to a man who did not want, nor deserve, that level of relationship with me.

A month-and-a-half ago a new person walked into my life.  Immediately my hormones went on high alert.  I found myself shamelessly flirting with this man.  I was trying to let him know that I was available if he wanted me.  The problem:  I am NOT available at all.  The previous two affairs ended a few years ago.  I finally told my husband about them two years ago (thought I still suspect that he knew all along), and he showed great mercy by forgiving me even though I didn’t deserve it (sound like anyone else?  God, perhaps?)  Yet, fully aware of my actions and not caring about consequences, I was actively pursuing this new person in my life.

One of the worst parts of my previous two affairs were all of the lies that I told to everyone.  Not just my husband.  I lied to friends, coworkers, my son, and I lied to myself.  I told myself that I was entitled to do whatever I needed to do to make myself happy, that I wasn’t hurting anyone, that it was just sex, or it was just two friends getting together for lunch.  I told more lies in those two years than I told in all the years of my life leading up to that point.

Last week, in an attempt to be alone with this person (despite my husband or his girlfriend) I asked the guy if he wanted to get together for a night of whiskey and tequila.  He was having a rough week and I don’t know what I was thinking (yes, I do).  We made plans to get together tonight.  I was going to stay at his house (on the couch) and we were going to spend the night drinking together.

“My chid, you have obviously lost your mind and can no longer think straight enough to protect yourself, so I am going to step in here and protect you from yourself.  You have come too far to go down this path again”

“Thanks, but I don’t need your help, God.”

“Yes, you do.”

“It’s a slow fade when you give yourself away
It’s a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
It’s a slow fade, it’s a slow fade”

This morning I got ready for work.  I made sure to pack a change of clothes for work tomorrow and come comfies for my night of tequila.  I had told my husband that I was going to my boss’s house for a girls night of margaritas.  I was supposed to have a meeting at church tonight, and was fully prepared to lie to my pastor by saying that I was swamped with work and wouldn’t be able to make it.  Everything was falling perfectly into place.  That is until the I saw the person I was supposed to be spending the evening with.  He looked rough.  He looked exhausted.  Further inquiry revealed that he hadn’t slept well last night and was not feeling well this morning.

By the end of the day his eyes were noticeably glassy and he looked like he could simply fall down asleep at any moment.  I told him that he needed to just go home and go straight to bed.  He agreed.  Before I left him for the day I told him that he still owed me a whiskey and tequila night.  He apologized, having forgotten about our plans on top of not feeling well.

“Set me free of the chains holding me
Is anybody out there hearing me?
Set me free”

I walked out to my car, and all I could think to do was thank God for keeping me from doing something that would have been tremendously stupid, from protecting me from my own desires.  God never acted on my own free will.  That’s not how He works.  He will never stop you from making bad decisions.  What God did was arrange circumstances such that my free will never had a chance to act.  He intervened on my behalf because He loves me and didn’t want me to take a fall that I may not have been able to get back up from.

I am not worthy of his love and attention.  My actions over the last several weeks prove that.  But despite my actions, despite my words, no matter how many times I turn from Him and get into my own desires, He is still there watching over me, loving me, and protecting me from my own worst enemy: myself.

How has God protected you from yourself?

Until next time . . .

365 Writing Prompts, by thinkingwritten.com – Day 010 – Friendship

The complete list of 365 writing prompts can be found at thinkwritten.com

Friendship . . . it’s a very broad word.  You have friends that are in our lives for only a short time.  You may even have friends that have been in your life for years and year, maybe even since childhood.  There are friends that only know a little about you, and there are friends that know everything about you.  No matter what through, with every friend that comes into your life, you give a little bit of yourself away.

The point of this writing prompt is to write about what it’s like to be friends with someone.  Yet, writing about friendship in such a vague fashion is bound to turn into a laundry list of attributes that I want in a friend . . . someone who laughs at the same things I do, that has a similar history to mine, that has the same beliefs as me, etc, etc, etc . . . Basically the generalized list of friend requirements would lead you to believe that I want to friends with only one person in my life . . . me.  But that is not the point of friendship, and friendship rarely works out to such exacting standards.

This is actually my second attempt at writing this post, because the first attempt was starting to turn into a laundry list of the friends in my life.  When I went back and read the years of friendships that had all been reduced into their own separate paragraphs it read much the same as a research paper minus the in-paper citations.  It was cold and perfunctory.  Those paragraphs lacked the laughter and tears that so often comes with friendship.  I don’t know if I can recreate the myriad of emotions and experiences that my friends have led me to experience, but hopefully I try to their relationships a little justice.

Some friends has a very positive influence on my life.  They came into my life, if only for a brief time, and helped me face fears, face reality, realize goals, and take on new challenges.  Some friends had a less than positive influence on my life, such as the friend that turned into an extramarital affair for two years.

Let me take this moment to stress though, that no friend should ever be able to push you into something you don’t want to do.  If they do pressure you into things that you don’t want to do then they are not your friend at all.  I take full responsibility for all the decisions I have made in my life.

I grew up with some friends, such as Molly, Tiffany, and Jill.  I matured with some friends, such as John, and Brian.  I have supported friends and been supported by friends.  I have laughed with friends, sometimes (the best times) to point of tears and aching bellies.  I have cried with friends in moments of sadness and loss.  I have given tough love to friends and been the recipient of tough love.  I have given my love and friendship easily, and received friendship and love easily.  I have also been stubborn and self-destructive, and been friends with people as stubborn and self-destructive as I can be.  I have leaned on friends to help me through the addictions of my loved ones, and been the one leaned on when a friend has been falling down.  I have faced fears with my friends, and suffered the loss of my friends.  I have had my heart broken by friends, and been stabbed in the back by my friends.  I have had friends become enemies, sometimes by my own actions, and sometimes by their actions.  And in turn, I have also had enemies become friends.

If you are my friend then I love you.  I love you with all of my heart, and hope for the same in return from you.  I will hold little back from you, and will do all I can to support you and encourage you.  I will value you, and recognize that you have been brought into my life for a reason, whether it’s been to change something in my life or to change something in yours.

I am thankful for every person that has come into my life, and I carry a little bit of each of them with me in my heart.  Each person that I have called friend has made me into the person I am today.


Here is a sneak peek at the topic for day 011:  Dragon: Envision a dragon. Do you battle him? Or is the dragon friendly? Use descriptive language.

Until next time . . .

365 Writing Prompts, by thinkingwritten.com – Day 009 – Animals

The complete list of 365 writing prompts can be found at thinkwritten.com

When I first found this list of writing prompts I told myself that I would stick to it.  For one whole year I would sit down with a new and different prompt and just let the words magically flow.  I made it to day eight.  My last post with this list was on May 17, 2017.  This time I am not going to promise myself that I will stick to the list every single day, but I will do my best to work through the list with some level of consistency.  I’ve not posted much in the last several months.  I have always referred to my need to write as a machine.  Sometimes the machine goes dormant for weeks, months, or sometimes even years.  But it always seems to fire back up when my feelings start overflowing.  I have to let them out or else I’ll go crazy.  Writing has always been my outlet.  Writing is my unfailing voice when my mouth fails me.

This particular writing prompt wants me to write about an animal.  There have been so many animals in my life, though, that I can’t pick just one.  So, sit back while I regale you with fond memories of some of the animals from my history.

My very first pet was a Russian Blue kitty cat named Flynn.  My parents adopted him shortly before I was born, and my mom always told me that when they got him he was smaller than a can of Dr. Pepper.

Flynn was a super awesome kitty, and he old had three feet.  He had all four legs, but was born with a birth defect that one of his legs ended in just a paw pad.  There were no adorable little toes.  It never fazed him that he was missing a foot.  He was my first experience with love, and he was first experience with death.  I was about seven years old when he passed away while the whole family slept.  My mom found him in the morning before I woke up, and she broke the news to me while I ate breakfast.  That broke my heart.

My next super awesome cat was named Rocky.  When my mom found him at the humane society he was in a large cage with several other kittens.  The other cats were just hanging out and napping.  Rocky was hanging on the front of the cage vying for all the attention.  The Sylvester Stallone movie, “Rocky” was popular at the time, so when my mom adopted the attention-grabbing kitten, she named him Rocky.  He immediately became my cat.  He slept with me, followed me around the house.  He was my feline shadow.  As he aged he went deaf, but he didn’t realize that he couldn’t hear.  He would walk around the house in the middle of the night howling at the top of his lungs like a dog baying at the moon.  He lived a long and adventurous life finally passed away in 2001.

I used to have a cat named Spot.  He was all black except for one white spot on his neck.  When he was a kitten Spot was a wild man.  He would climb curtains, run wall-to-wall around the house, try to jump into the kitchen sink while my dad did the dishes, and would sit in the tub while my dad would take a shower, and he would attack my feet if they moved while I slept.  And then he got neutered and he stopped moving.  He became a big ole lump.  He didn’t like most adults, but had amazing patience with children.  In the winter when the furnace would be running he would lay on the floor vent.  The room would be freezing cold, but that goofy cat would be fast asleep and purring on the vent.  He fuzzy belly would be hot while everyone in the room was turnin blue from the cold.  He like to go outside but would never venture farther than the backyard.  He’d just lay in th sunshine and sleep.

Unfortunately I will in an apartment complex that does not allow pets, so I have not had any animals in my life since 2004.  But the last two cats that I had were named Pepper and Goldie.  Pepper was just a standard domestic tabby cat.  Goldie was an orange tabby.  Pepper was afraid of EVERYthing.  Goldie was afraid of NOTHING.  Pepper would hide and cower and would avoid people at all costs.  Goldie would get in your face and demand attention.  My dad got both of them on the same night, and they were about the same age.  They were essentially raised by the dog that my dad already had at home.  Pepper always remember that he was a cat.  Goldie grew up thinking he was a dog.  He at the dog’s food.  If the dog went outside to play or go to the bathroom, Goldie went outside also.  Goldie learned how to play fetch, and would try to steal food directly off of your dinner plate.

Those are just some of the pets that have walked through this world with me.  How about you?  What are some of your favorite animal stories?


Here is a sneak peek at the topic for day 010:  Friendship: Write about being friends with someone.

Until next time . . .