Stop telling me to leave things in the past. My memories are pretty much all I got.
I hate passive-aggressive speech, and I’m not a fan of sarcasm. These two languages often leave me confused and uncertain about how I should feel about what was said. I try not to use either of these when I talk.
I do, however, love metaphors, and I often speak metaphorically.
It’s been one week since I took in Chester. Feels like it’s been longer than that. We’ve made a lot of progress over the last seven days. Since he’s been here, I feel that I’ve been happier. I’m having fewer outbursts and I haven’t felt depressed. Chester seems happy himself. I think he knows that he is my dog now and he will never have to change homes again.
Thanks to my brother Fred and the Truck, I finally got rid of the pile of branches, old fence boards and rocks. It took us a couple trips, but we did it.
I think things are falling into place a little more each day. The first day, Chester wouldn’t eat. The second day, he started eating. Though I’d been offering him his bone, he didn’t want it. But a few minutes ago, he was chewing on the edge of the coffee table. So, I got his bone for him and he went to work on it right away.
I have a dog again. This is Chester. He’s a Chatahoula Louisiana Leopard Dog from Alabama. I’m going to teach Chester the game of football.
Thanks to Mark and Bonnie for bringing him to me.
