and they call it puppy love..

I have been writing this blog on-and-off in different ways since I first started this. I am going to warn anybody who might be reading this that this will contain content that will horrify you or should. This is a fair warning, the only reason I am finally strong enough to write this is because of my friends and family. They, for all different reasons, ease my nightmares, bring me joy and help me maintain my balance. Thank you.

If you haven't read my blog about my vision of dog heaven..it is God is Dog spelled backwards.

The title above is from Donny Osmond. He was the teen idol of his time, you were for him or Michael Jackson. Being raised a Mormon, there wasn't any real choice. He ruled. He is still hot, and Michael...oh gheeze, what a mess that all was. Fame so doesn't bring you happiness...though you think it would.

My earliest memories were of dogs, Skylos and Boots to be specific. When I say earliest, I was 2 or 3 years old. I laugh here because there was a time, as a teen our family was discussing old memories. I kept insisting that both dogs were HUGE. They were as tall as the table, I kept saying. My brother's were laughing saying they were only medium-size dogs at best. My dad was in a positive mood that night and realized something in that oh-my-gosh moment. He asked me how big the table was? I replied, Well, that was over my head too..I can remember walking under it. Both dogs were bigger than me. LOL. My brother's were stunned..we forgot how little you were.

Skylos got very sick, he was a mutt of maybe a collie type dog. I remember he had this large tumor growing out of the side of his neck. He was in the kitchen in the doorway and I was trying to get past him. He was growling and wouldn't let me through. It was the first time I was ever scared of him, he kept advancing and being menacing and and.. my brother Greg came from somewhere and saved me.

Not too long later their was a discussion between my dad and the landlord. I am not sure but I think the dog was his. They took a walk out in the orchard looking very grim. My dad came back shaking and in almost tears. He couldn't do it, meaning the landlord. My dad shot Skylos and they both buried him. I wasn't very upset at the time and still am not. Skylos, of course, went to heaven. Before people get crazy, this was another country and another time. Dogs weren't taken to vet's or money spent on them. It was his time, you put them down as quickly and painlessly as possible.

Snoopy was our beagle, of course..we named him from the comics and when he showed up, huh, he was tan and fluffy.  My mom shook her head and said that is not a beagle. He was the cutest dog ever.   He got his own box with blankets and a ticking alarm clock. My mom fed him milk and bread until the day he ate a whole steak that had been thawing for dinner, wrappings and all.

Snoopy, and here I cry..still.*sigh, was the first dog beating I witnessed. He bit my dad and was beat severely over and over, we were all crying and pleading. There was blood, screaming, growling and yipping. Snoopy survived that. He never bit my dad or anyone else that I knew of ever again. It did change us all forever. When we moved, I never saw him again. I had heard that Boots or Snoopy got hit by a car. Oh lord.

When we moved to the states there was Alma, a medium-sized black mutt dog and then after him came Tippy, a medium-sized black, white and brown mutt with a white tip on his tail. We watched two dogs for different cousin's for a week or so. Snuffy was a mini-toy poodle, and Brownie, a long haired medium-sized light tan colored dog. I loved them all and watched them all get beat, some worse than others. None was as bad as Snoopy, but it wasn't a good thing ever. We all learned not to intervene or plead, or even cry..we froze and tried to bring as little attention to ourselves as possible. It was called survival. I, when I could, would sneak them away and hide and cuddle with them.

I'm taking a pause here. Whew! I am not telling you this story for your sympathy, this was my reality. For some reason, we, my sibs and me, or I could never talk about it. I like my therapist's words on this..you will get to a point when you can tell your stories without fear. The "shame" will go back to where it belongs. Thank you and yes, and you will feel at peace inside. I am getting there slowly, one piece/peace at a time. Scary though, the first time I told the next part of the story. I wasn't ready and my mind flew apart. LOL, it is coming back together, stronger and better than it ever has before. Mental health isn't a joke, though I do make fun of it, constantly. "I laugh, because I have cried".

I am going to have to make this a two-fer, sorry. I will finish it soon..mostly because it is really late right now. I have been sleeping very well lately, and don't want to mess that up. thanks for listening as always..in the words of Bob Barker..spade or neuter your pets, please. Thanks. TTYAL

LOLOL.