Tag: general

Dogs Have Personalities

dog_german_bad_dogOn the way to work this morning we stopped at a red light. We could feel the stare of someone on the side of us. You all know the feeling, when your hairs stand up on your skin like antennae. My husband noticed it first since he notices everything. He can somehow see everything you’re doing in your car. So, turning slightly to the left there he was. All fury and bursting with energy. Tongue hung over the front of his mouth and …wait, “did he just smile at me?” I think a dog just smiled at me. He may have winked too. I’m not very good in the doggie breeding category so I don’t know what kind of dog he was but as long as he knows that I know his secret. It all started back in 2007, before which I was a cat woman. As a child I treasured the company of tiny paws and purring sounds. The ease of having them to jump up in your lap, petting had never been so fun. But today cats are just kind of creepy. They’re always sneaking around and peeking around the corner. Showing up at the oddest times, “where did you come from?” Destroying something I’m sure. Anyway, back to the story.

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Lady and the children Top to bottom: Faatimah (in pink), Autumn (hips), David, and Menelik

So yes, 2007. My husband and I, (unwed then) received a puppy (Rottweiler) from some friends. Technically she was a puppy but didn’t really look like it. She was almost my height so I was never really convinced. The dog absolutely loved to lounge on the couch downstairs from which she was strongly prohibited. Did she obey? No. She jumped up on the sofa every chance she got and crossed her little paws like she was the queen of the castle. I mean sure she guarded things but sista girl needed to get one thing straight: I am the woman of this house. We named her Lady because aside from her obvious doggy demeanor she was everything but a dog. As you can see she loved to take pictures and happened to be very photogenic. I don’t know who she thought she was (to my knowledge America’s Top Doggies didn’t exist). She handled herself nice and dainty like. I kept trying to tell her she wasn’t as petite as she thought she was, but what I said didn’t seem to matter. She walked around the house like she was made up of feathers though company made it very clear we’d adopted the most dangerous animal known to man. So did her appetite. That didn’t stop her from switching across the floor though, moving her butt from side to side like she had hips. I didn’t play that though, no male doggie company until you are of age young lady. Although now that I think about it, I’m sure she lied about her age.

PS_Hotel_KingRoom_newThe straw that broke the camel’s back was in ’09. We’d traveled from Chicago to Dallas in my husband’s truck with little Miss thing in the backseat. What a trip that was. Upon our arrival we checked into a hotel that would allow for pets. Usually I just got my mother to doggy sit but that wasn’t happening this time. The last time mama came over Lady made it very clear that she could take care of herself. Needless to say my mother wasn’t very enthusiastic about doing this again. So we check into the hotel and although very nervous about leaving her there, we decided to take a risk. It was a business trip and we did not have the time to stick around. Amidst all of the fun we were having, we forgot about Lady in the hotel room. It was dark when we got back and I braced myself for the destruction we would have to pay for on account of this child we left to her own devices. But when we opened the door laughter escaped us. I think we laughed for a good 15 minutes straight. We had one of those comfortable sofa chairs and the dog was sitting on the chair with her paws crossed and watching television. I couldn’t make this up if I tried. Nothing was out of place. Nothing chewed on. The only thing this prissy little lady wanted to do was sit uninterrupted on the most comfortable spot in the house. I eventually accepted her for who she was and went out and bought this neat little electronic device that could be used to trim your dog’s nails, since Lady made it very clear that she’d never had a mani pedi before.

So now I know the secret: 101 Dalmatians was not just a movie. If your a dog lover listen to me very closely, this is not a joke: all dogs have personalities. They talk when your away and act like people as soon as you turn your back. I’m just warning you.

Dreaming

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They tell you to keep dreaming, but I am on a mission to stop the flow of dreams. To stumbling block my way through imagination, and the influence of certain memory. You see, there’s a secret to all these dreams. A hushed lullaby of awareness kept sacred within the chambers of understanding. A secret left deserted amidst the open square of objectives and goals and missions, and all this talk of entrepreneurship. It is easy to get lost here. To be an off scale balance of myth and reality. A sleep walking fantasy of coming and going wrapped up in fragmented steps and plans. Dreamers strive to illustrate the future with their talents, and to breathe life into the stillness of pictures that once belonged in books. Their striving is admirable to say the least since I too have goals I wish to accomplish. Yet while accomplishing them I’d hope to do so while awake; in the depth and breadth of consciousness. To never be put into a situation where I lose track of myself for the sake of adding humanity to fairy tales. The greatest achievement means nothing to the person who has lost track of themselves, and have opted to be boxed in, and to be mentally limited. It’s OK to have goals, but be not the sacrificial lamb to your greatest dreams. Do not do away with goal and objective, but be careful under the concept of dreaming, since to dream, you have to first be asleep.

Guest Feature – The Prophet

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise on your lips

– The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran

Hide and Seek with Spring

One minute its warm and then the temperature takes a bow. He’s too clever to crouch, for then I will notice him. So yes, a bow will do. Just enough to add to the confusion of the weather. But today. Oh no today I’m on to him. It’s so very nice outside. Plus, I have seen splashes of yellows and trees budding reds. I have felt the gentle brush of warm air crawl upon my skin. I have watched the sun hopscotch with children and then hide behind the clouds again. I have seen the shelves of stores dressed in organic soil and flower pots. I awake to the kiss of sunlight nibbling at my face, though by the time I make it to the window you vanish before I could let you in. I approach the patio to get a taste of a calming breeze, then shutter at the sight of goosebumps on my skin. My short sleeves and dresses lay intermingled with my sweaters and jeans, poor things. They are confused in this maze of a world, this puzzle of a decision. My blinds are open again, trying to catch up with you. I’m sure the twinkle of the stars is really laughter. I think I even saw them slap high fives with the moon, for I am the peeping tom of the sky. Over here playing hide and seek with spring.

Sorry

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Have you ever been tired of saying that you’re sorry? Can’t courage your way out of this weakness; can’t forklift this stain out of your chest; can’t shatter these words into dust, drive them to the deepest ocean and wave them goodbye. After all, demons are easy to kill, for they coward under the strength of your words, melt under the banner of your truth. But I am no superwoman, not yet anyway. The law of my tongue half written, a scorching painting left unfinished. But I’m sorry sounds like broken English too distorted to be deciphered, so the flesh of my skin crawls away from the filth of this apology. My knees are stitched against the backbone of my breast, my arms stapled around these, my head tucked tightly inside of me. I am twisted. What kind of forgiveness got me in this fetal position? At some point a change has got to come. I have not the time to keep traveling on repeat; the same old album forgetting to change it’s tune; a dangling sacrifice. The birth and death of me are these apologies; both the resurrection and artwork of my eulogy. I have just had enough of these wretched…. I’m sorry’s.

Emotional Response

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Everyone is made up of emotions. I have them. You have them. We all have them. We are human, and as such we feel. In a sense we are always reacting based on our emotions. Whether we research information or gather enough facts to deem us intelligent, for the most part majority of us will still respond emotionally. If we’re angry we will project an action accordingly. If we are sad our environment will be soaked up with gloom. If we are excited our blog post may just burst forth in a joyous frenzy and perhaps we’ll make a mistake or two. Our excitement may move us too fast or in another direction. Whatever the case may be, chances are your next move will be less based on the facts and more so based on emotion. The problem with this is that reacting emotionally can do away with logic. It takes the simple and makes it far more complicated. It blurs the vision and steers into the direction of flesh and bone and feel and touch rather than common sense. Open doors become blocked by people shouting and pointing fingers. They curse and stomp and accuse and it ignites a fire under you. You curse and stomp and accuse them back, pointing your fingers in their faces because after all, mama ain’t raise no fool, no fear, no punks grew up in her house. Yet all the while the door is open, hanging tirelessly upon its hinges for you to walk through it. Suddenly there is no door, there is no opportunity, just you and emotion yelling and screaming at a mere image of your very self. The next time you feel yourself responding emotionally to a situation stop and count the facts. Try to understand that reason is first invisible until we are ready to accept it for what it is. I guarantee that you will eventually see the door.

Tainted Love

I-heart-you-hanging-Happy-Valentines-Day-2015-WallpaperIt is the language of all of mankind. I can walk the streets of any Germanic town, and while I am not very familiar with the language, I can still recognize love. If a man was struggling to release himself from a burning car, I and those who see this will not hesitate to assist him. I do not need to know that hilf mir is German for help me to understand that this man needs help. It is his body language and the human side of him that speaks this to me and I am able to understand this language. I can hear the yelp of a puppy and see the movement of his body to understand that he needs help without verbally communicating with this animal. Already we are able to see that Love is an action word.

 

african-american-children-painting1Its power transcends verbal communication. It can be seen on the street corner, in the corporate office, and in the eyes of a child. Children possess the purity of love. When they hug you there is no knife following it. There is no wicked smile behind their pupils, there is no criss cross of their fingers, and there is no deception in their hearts. I love working with children because every smile is genuine. Every “I Love You” is real. We have all experienced this kind of love at some point in our lives. But then we get older. We become grown-ups and we lose this valued possession. As a result, tainted Love is what we often see in a world as cold as this one.

 

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People throw this word around like it is part of some volleyball game. Whoever can use their members to bounce it in another direction must surely qualify as possessing it. “I Love You” doesn’t have the same ring to it as it used to. We have taken something as pure and as genuine as love and polluted it. It is the stench of a rotting corpse; the bend of a broken bow. I dodge tainted love as if running from a plague because it is not love at all; it is hatred glossed over with the words of flattery. Tainted Love is easy to spot. Whenever it is occupied by over-zealousness it sends up a red flag. I can tell that your actions will not mimic the beauty of your words, which are quite over the top. I can see the stain of insincerity and loathing on your teeth; I can smell the dishonesty seeping from your breath. It is not patient. It is not kind. It is not enduring. It is not real. A corrupt “I Love You” stings the skin and rots the mind. It teaches men how to hate and to disguise that hatred so that it looks like love. The greatest struggle then that mankind have to look forward to in this life, is to learn how to love again.