Tuesday, June 25, 2013

I don't think I'll ever call dog a dog again


I  sure am glad to have know my friend cheyenne. I don't think I'll ever call dog a dog again, especially when talking to a person about their friend... today I told a young man he had a great looking dog and I instantly felt I should have said friend or pal, instead of dog.

It seems everything I do used to either start with cheyenne or end with cheyenne... cooking, she'd be in the kitchen looking for a scrap and always laying smack dab in the middle of the floor... I know we once mused about making her a dog-skin rug when she passed... when the time came, burying her was hard enough.

I wish I could find something around our house with her scent on it.

and coming home is less, and leaving is too.
cooking isn't the same and eating has become a chore.
I used to look fwd to a solitary walk and today, I can't imagine a walk with out her.

I'm in such pain over this, but it is sweet pain for you/I can't have this kind of pain with out a lot of investing in the joy and the love of it all...I'm glad cheyenne helped to melt the ice around my heart, I'm glad she suspected me a good pal and I'm glad she let me prove that to her... I only wish every day we had together was as close and fulfilling as the last 6 or so years. don't get me wrong, I've always felt a bond to cheyenne's personality... hell, when she was in peril of being brought to the kennel, I asked amy to save and care for her more than once... yea, I had to ask  amy as I know that I'm just too odd and out of it to be responsible to care for much, hell, it's a job to get me to clean up my workspace and to shower, well, cheyenne did afford me the chance to put off a shower as she ALWAYS loved my scent.

cheyenne, I so love and miss you.                              


amy posted a nice obit here: http://www.usaodd.com/?p=1060

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Wide release Jan 2013 - limited edition Nov 2012o
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over 20 years of refusing the invites of the educated, celebrity and ruling classes, preferring instead the excitement of upper low class, poverty, petty crime and violence.

It's not the wine and cheese I hate, it's the boring, void of anything lives the rich and privileged scurry thru like the walking dead on meth - most of the rich think their cultured simply by consuming - culture can't be bought, it must be lived.

I was truly meant to live on the side of a hill, growing my own tomatoes, basil and garlic in peace with my soul mate and dog.

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