My new aunt Marie and uncle Paul came to stay in the basement space for a while. That means the basement has been off limits to me for seven weeks. I'm bereft.
However, having them here hasn't been all that bad. You see, they are Amos fans! And pretty much anything I do is adorable to them. Wise folk.
Miracle workers, aunt Marie and uncle Paul got Myrtle to start eating at the table with them instead of in the GREEN chair. Now, you might be thinking that is not such a good thing, since I could climb in Myrtle's lap in the chair, though not when she is at the table. But think about this. They got Myrtle to start eating at the table with them. With! That means three sets of dishes for me to lick, rather than a mere one!
Being a rather smart fellow, I quickly figured out that uncle Paul is the fastest eater, so I camp out at his side once they sit down. Sure enough, once he's done, uncle Paul will set his plate or bowl or both down on the floor for me. My puppy momma finishes next, so I take care of her dishes. Aunt Marie always finishes last (this is because she does most of the cooking) and some times forgets to give me her dishes, but once reminded, she sets them on the floor for me. Good times, eh?
Well, my adorableness has worn down their caution a bit. They lost a bit of diligence in ensuring the door to the basement is always closed. Now, don't misunderstand me. I'm not that feeble. I have managed to find my way to the promise land many times. But each time someone was hot on my heels. Not this time.
Myrtle, aunt Marie, and uncle Paul were busy play a game...a long game...for hours. Something about phases. Anyway, my aunt and uncle each went to the basement to tend to their needs throughout the game. Being a patient fellow, I bid my time. When the iron was hot, I struck.
VICTORY AT LAST!
Someone left the door open. Of course, I was down there in a flash. Sure enough, the basement really is the promise land. Not just paper and all sorts of interesting stuff did I find to shred. That didn't even catch my eye. Like an arrow sprung from a bow, I shot straight to this fantastic section of bread left in the trash. Oh, my! This was no mere nibble, no bite given in pity. This was practically an entire loaf! Okay, maybe a third. But still. Wow! To be fair, I must admit that I did not have the opportunity to devour all of it. Pride goes before a fall.
I couldn't help myself. I brought the bread back upstairs to show aunt Marie how much I appreciated the tasty treat she left right at the top of the trash can, for surely she did this for me. Surely! However, Myrtle took exception to my display or my eating all that bread...or both. Spotting disapproval painted all over her face, I raced up the stairs to our bedroom. Myrtle is MUCH slower than I, so I figured I would have some time for my feast. I was right.
Myrtle went back downstairs with a mere stub compared to the branch I carried up with me. Most of that bread happily ended up in my tummy. My puppy momma wasn't all that mad at me, though. She was laughing when she picked me up to grab the bread out of my mouth, she was laughing as she walked back down the stairs, she was laughing when she showed aunt Marie and uncle Paul the little bit left, and she was laughing when she tossed it in the trash. Too bad she didn't just let me finish it.
Still, I savor the victory. I, Amos Adams, shall not be denied entrance to part of my own home! Surely my perseverence was rewarded. I wonder what I shall be given next time??
This is my life with Myrtle. Amos Adams signing off!
Friday, July 13, 2012
Saturday, July 7, 2012
What lingers still...
Out of nowhere, this wild, fierce, and rather terrifying storm came up and knocked out the power to our home. Since my puppy momma cannot be without air-conditioning, we went to stay in the basement of Aunt Leslie's house. While Myrtle was very thankful for a place to stay, its effect on me was rather hard for her to face.
It was hard on me, too.
You see, Aunt Leslie lives next to this place filled with lots of trees and wild animals. Fearsome Beasts of all sorts! That would have been terribly hard to face all by itself, but her back yard doesn't have any fences. Yep...that meant I had to wear the horrible, wretched, terrifying leash each and very time we went out.
Facing your greatest fear all day long, day after day, is exhausting...as you can see in my picture. Exhausting, draining, debilitating....mentally, physically, emotionally. I was a basket case by the time we left there. And, even in the haven of our home, it took me many days to shed the weight of my fear.
Myrtle and I don't talk much about the pit bull attack. At least we don't with our mouths. But our bodies sure are still vocal about it. We each tremble like a leaf at things most folk don't bat an eyelash at...or so it seems. Other folk seem so brave, so fearless really, about doing things like walking outside, being around strangers, and wearing leashes. Myrtle tells me that I am fine just the way that I am, but being scared is not very fun. It wears on a fellow.
Next week it will have been a year since we started getting scared together. Next week it will have been a year since we were both scarred.
Myrtle tells me that sometimes she feels like she is still standing on the corner playing tug-of-war against the pit bull with my body. Sometimes, she still feels my body slipping from her fingers, slick with our blood mingled together. She doesn't remember anything from the last time she stumbled to her feet, clutching me against her until the two of us were lying on the ground...the attack finally over.
Only...it really isn't. As much as we both wish it to be over, it is not. It is not in our bodies. It is not in our minds. It is not in our hearts. We startle at little things. We fear little things. And we think walking about the neighborhood is just plain a bad idea.
I guess, though, in a strange way it is good that it happened to both of us. I mean, I don't EVER want anything bad to happen to my puppy momma. EVER. But since it happened to both of us neither one of us is completely alone. Even if no one else does, we understand each other. We understand the fear. We understand the trembling. We understand the weakness.
This is my life with Myrtle. Amos Adams signing off!
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