Courage

Hello all-

Well, I’m still slogging it out here in the world of indie publishing. This month, I decided to try for B&N local author day in the city. I won’t hear anything for a week and I am anxious. I know I will either make the cut or not. That is a given. I’m just hoping I make it but I am expecting the turn down.
I am also the featured author for first Friday in July in Emporia. WOW. A little nervous about that too. I have friends coming from around Kansas to hear me read. Double wow. I tell myself my hard work is paying off. I guess it is.
I am much better at encouraging others. I am learning how to to it for myself.
I will keep you all updated on how things go.
until next time. thanks for hanging in there with me-
angel

Double Dose of Grief

This week has been hard.
Maybe that’s not the right word.
Heartbreaking. Rough. Raw.
My best friend, Molly the Maremma mountain dog, lost her battle with breast cancer on Thursday. She was loving, too damn smart for her own good, gun shy, and always happy. I was HER person. My lap was the safest place in the universe. She loved me. No matter what. She loved me.
I miss her. I miss EVERYTHING about her. That deep bark at anything that moved. Snoring louder than I do. Grumbling and slapping the crate door when it was time to get up. Even her tearing hell out of three extra large dog crates, my back yard, my favorite silk skirt, and my chain link fence. Her obnoxiously ringing the large jingle bells on the back door when she wanted out for the third time in the last hour. To have her gallop across the yard and snort on the barn cats, just to make them hiss and grumble. I would happily endure all of that all over again. Every minute of the frustration was precious. I was her momma from the time I retrieved her from that tiny kennel in a back yard, because she wasn’t small and cute anymore.
My house was her forever home and I was her forever fur mom. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I know she would want me to pour all of my love on the rest of the critters here. And I am trying.
Right now, I have a job but the agency I work for hasn’t had any new clients admitted. That means I have no work hours.
A second dose of grief.
I bounce between the stages of grief. Sometimes several times a day. Like one of those blue rubber balls in a fierce game of handball.
Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.
I miss you, fluppy lap puppy. You were taken from me all too soon.
Love,
your fur-ever momma

Double Dose of Grief

It’s a sad time for me. I lost my furry best friend. My Molly, a Maremma mountain dog, lost her battle with breast cancer on Thursday.
I was HER person. She was stubborn, too damn smart for her own good, and loving. If she didn’t like someone, then I knew to be on guard. I would often see her curled up outside in her chair with one of the barn cats. One day this spring, when it was cold, she sat outside of her house and kept looking from me to the doghouse and back. She had a pitiful look. I went to investigate, and found Mamma Grumpy Cat comfortably ensconced inside. Much to Molly’s delight, and Grumpy’s dismay, I shooed kitty out. That really summed up her personality.
I buried her here at the farm. That way, she can still keep watch over me and the farm, like she enjoyed.
Over the last few days, I find myself wanting to call her name. I miss her at my side. I wish I could hear her deep bark. I would LOVE for her to misbehave and aggravate me again one more time. To listen to her grumble and snore in her sleep. For her to slap the door of her kennel to tell me it is time to get up. For her big wet footprints to dirty my floors.Ten years with my fluppy lap puppy wasn’t long enough.
I gave her a forever home. She tore hell out of three extra-large dog crates and my chain link fence, hated fireworks and thunderstorms, dug holes in my yard and under my house, barked at anything that moved and frustrated the hell out of me some days. BUT EVERY MINUTE OF IT WAS WORTH IT! She knew she was loved. I was her forever momma. If she was upset or scared, she wanted to sit on my lap because she knew she was safe and loved. This was HOME.
I find myself bouncing between the stages of grief like a game of handball.
Oh, and right now I have a job but no clients, no hours, and no income of my own. Got that news a few days before…
A double dose of grief. Just what I didn’t want.
For now, I will bounce around, work through things, give my love to the rest of the furry and feathered critters here on the farm. I can’t stop being Mom because I am sad. Molly would want me to take good care of everyone. But most of all, she wouldn’t want me to be unhappy.

Goodbye, my sweet and gentle girl. Know you were loved.
your forever fur momma,
love,
me