Tag: picture post

Gods Library

Walking through Wal-Mart parking lot. I see a bumper sticker that said, “Don’t worry about tomorrow, God’s already there”.

Which got me to thinking.

I tell people a lot that He already has a book written of your life – so He knows what’s happening tomorrow. Then started thinking about what His library would look like. 📖

Photo Credit goes to Nemanja Sekulic.

He said he used photoshop to do this with a picture of his dad in the middle.

Heart Broken.

I talk to a dead cat every day.

January 2021, our cat Penelope had kittens. All of them died except one. I became fond of the little kitten but we had no intentions of keeping her. I was going to find her a new home. (We already had too many cats.)

After she was born I was hospitalized, y’all remember that. When I got home she had a boo-boo on the top of her head. Her mom, Penelope, && Penelopes sister, Benson, got into a fight over her and booped her head. We named her Dotty.

After a bit that spot turned black – not a bad black, she basically ended up with a dot on her head that was black. As she aged a lot of her white darkened. She ended up looking Siamese.

Her and I bonded. We got very close. I fell in love with her when she was a baby. Completely head over heels. She got older, bigger, darker. She slept with me, && would want me to hold her like a baby rocking her as she slept. I called her Babykins. She was my baby.

Two weeks ago she never came home. I waited three days before I really started to freak out. By Friday I needed her home. So I went out looking for her. Walking around our small town I knew she wouldn’t go far. I even asked a Facebook Community page for help.

I found her. 💔

I know people always tell me that they don’t see their animals as animals but as children. I never understood that. Until her. She was special to me. She made me happy. &&& I know she loved me just as much as I loved her. (Even if I did read someone say that animals don’t love us that they only seem like it because they depended on us for food.)

She was down the road. Wet. Dirty. Which was things she hated more than anything. I wish I had went looking for her Wednesday, but I don’t think it would have mattered.

We have a set of aggressive dogs on our street. Mind you, I wasn’t there && at first I thought she was hit by a car. But this past Saturday we found another one of our cats, mauled to death in our back yard. I’m about 100% sure that Babykins was killed by the dogs.

When I found her. A piece of me broke in half. I feel like I’m missing something. A small part of me. A part of my happiness disappeared with her. I picked her limp body up and carried her home with no feelings in my legs. Couldn’t see through the tears. My lungs felt empty. I couldn’t breathe.

I sat on my front porch, alone, crying holding her like I did when she was alive. Close to my chest, rocking her back and forth, crying.

I went to work the next day. I shouldn’t have. For 12.5 hours I sat at my desk and cried. I wasn’t in the correct mindset to be there. I got nothing accomplished. But I went because I had no choice.

Milo, the other cat we found, was our baby. We got him April 2018, and he was solid white && deaf. He was a rescue that we got as a kitten. We raised him. He raised the other cats. We weren’t here for his but I’m pretty sure that Lucci, another one of our cats saw it. He witnessed Milos death. I think this because he has bite marks on his back and side.

Milo

Milo had no chance && I fear that Lucci tried to help but couldn’t. Lucci is now traumatized. Any noise he hears he jumps. Stares at the doors. Won’t go outside. You can tell he is sad.

Lucci

I talk to Babykins every day I walk by her spot. We buried her next to the porch. We put Milo on the other side. They are both there and I see their spots every day.

I really miss them.

Nightmare -vs- Bad Dream

I have been having horrible dreams off and on since I was fifteen. They always varied from not able to find my brother during bad times, to shooting my grandfather, to finding my mother pulling a butcher’s knife on me.

Yeah, I know that those kinds of dreams are usually triggered by something traumatic – mine was burying my mother. I buried her at fifteen and the dreams started.

However, they have been non-existent for a while now &&& I was hoping I was done with them. Today, a day I don’t work, I’m awake at 4 o’clock in the morning thanks to a bad dream. This one – was about possession.

It wasn’t really scary – I didn’t have my moment like the people in movies and television shows where I roll around in bed, sweating, moaning, and then JUMP really high breathing heavily trying to figure out what was happening. No. I am a quiet bad dreamer, if you will.

This morning the boyfriend was wandering around the room and so I just sat up, normally, and looked at him. Eventually grabbing paper and drawing what the “demon” looked like. My Boyfriend – LOVES scary movies – so I figured if I drew it for him he might tell me where I saw it, heard of it, or maybe just passed by it.

He looked and brought up Jeff the Killer – but his eyes were wrong. Plus, in all of my years, I have never heard of “Jeff the Killer”. It might be half because I am not an artist, in the least, but I think I did pretty well for someone who did not inherit any form of drawing gene from anyone in my family.

Dream Demon.

I don’t know, it may have just been random. I have yet to find anything important from my dreams. Except maybe the ones with The Brother – only thing I could think of, anytime I REALLY needed him, he wasn’t anywhere around. Now, you have to keep in mind I stopped having dreams about him when I was around seventeen. Him &&& I are as close as ever, so the dreams have stopped.

Most of them stopped – actually. Once The Boyfriend came into my life. I have had a couple in the past five years, but nothing that made me stop && think, what just happened? Until now, of course.

There is more to the demon dream, but as a writer, I just cannot bring myself to share it. Never know, one day you might wander through this world and come across a short story all about Mister Demon. That is, if I can connect to that side of my brain.

If I could go the rest of my life without having another nightmare/bad dream, it would be too soon.