life without me
I have been sorting through all kinds of stuff post pulling my life out of storage after three years of what essentially boils down to life on the road.
Sublet after sublet.
Nothing permanent.
Everything in storage.
There are things here I do not even remember owning, let alone buying.
Sometimes they are nice. Like the CD laser cleaner that on a whim I stuck in the CD player and presto, the CD player works again. Well, sort of. It is tiffy about what it wants to play but if I pick something it likes it will play it.
[Hey, isn’t the CD player supposed to play what I want to play, not the other way around?]
And. Dog photos. Photos of Dolph. Photos of Loke. Photos of Jones — who is not a dog but thought he was and the rest of us sort of did too.
I look at these photos of me with the dogs and I see another person. As if, with each animal I lost, I lost a piece of me. Until, I am not sure without the dogs exactly who I am any more. A woman without pets. Living without animals for the first time in sixteen years.
Sixteen years is a long time to live with animals and then suddenly be here, in this new and strange to me place, with nothing alive but me in the room.
And I see myself with those animals and I think, Ah Loke.
And then I think, Ah Max.
Because that is a me I remember being, but I am not quite her any more.
I miss the dogs.
12 Responses to life without me
Any broken bond that you have in your life is going to effect you. Some for the best, some not so good.
Sure, you may have lost something special, but think about ow much you’ve gained having those dogs in your life. That’s the great things about dogs and pets in general. They give more than they take.
Oh, and no matter what, you’ll never be alone. Just considering the bacteria, you’re surounded by living things. HA!
Oops. I really need to figure out that I should prrof (sse what I mean?) read what I post. My bad.
I know what you mean about the animals, the one time I tried to live without having an animal around it totally freaked me out and i had to go get a dog!
The CD player: Mine does that too. Maybe it is some sort of conspiracy by the record industry mob. Those who didn’t pay up for mob protection don’t get on the list of playable songs…
Aw, well, my dogs gave their lives, and took my heart.
There is a better part of me that lives when I love something. I am less, when I do not. I wonder if that is why people are so in love with being in love. Because of what it makes them.
I think my CD player was just way way tired of moves, Uncensored. It is behaving better lately. It is scared of the ipod.
I love your comment:
“There is a better part of me that lives when I love something. I am less, when I do not. I wonder if that is why people are so in love with being in love. Because of what it makes them.”
That sounds beautiful to me.
I think that is why people have children. Well, some people.
I wish I could send you one of my pigeons, Max. They are so sweet when they cuddle. I hand raise some of the babies, and one, who I named Tildy, is a doll. I made a sling under my neck for him to sit in when he was little so he would feel like he was sitting under his mom. He loved my hair hanging over him. (try to imagine a grown woman walking around with a awkward, naked baby pigeon hanging under her chin). He still like to sit there, even now.
One more thought, and a lot of people will think me batty, perhaps, but I don’t really care. My icon is my cat, Solomon. He is the reincarnation of my cat, Tory. I will tell you the story if you are interested. Anyway, you may get to see your dogs again!
There is a story that when you die, your spirit must journey to a place that can only be reached by crossing a river in a boat. And when you reach this river, your dog is there to greet you and guide the boat to the other side.
Me, when I go, I’m taking a twelve pack of Becks, two packs of smokes, the BIG box of Milkbones, and a case of Pounce with. Boat party. Yay!
Oh yeah, and tennis balls. Tennis balls for Loke. Wilsons were his favorite.
I hope you get another dog or cat again when the time is right.
I know what you mean about losing your pets they are really family.
Max, don’t forget the coins to pay the ferry man.
Nice story. It tugged at my heart strings.
In fact, it sorta colored my whole mood :(
Maybe you need a Chia Pet.
Oops. Sorry about that Stilletto.
I do not think there is a ferry man in this story. Just you and your dog and the boat.
Note to self: Take coins just in case.