Do you ever have those days when you feel like you’re an involuntary participant in an ugly game of dodgeball and you’re the only one getting hit by the ball? Repeatedly?
This week has been a string of a couple of those days. I have a lot on my mind, some real concerns.
At the end of 2015, I discovered a bulge in my abdomen. Immediately I was worried, internally panicked. Having worked in the medical field for 20 years and being a chronic patient (thanks to Crohn’s disease), I know more than the average bear about medical things. And I’m a chronic worrier so my mind goes to the worst possibility.
Not everyone has pets and not everyone wants one, but for those of us who love our animal friends, we can get pretty serious about it. I once read a quote (paraphrasing) that we may have many pets in our lifetimes, but for most pets we are their only humans. I found that pretty profound. Think back to all the pets you’ve had so far in your life. For many of us that will be quite a few. But how many humans has your pet had? The likelihood is that not many or maybe just one…you.
My first-ever pet was a blonde Cocker Spaniel named Brandy. Our family had a bent towards Cockers and it’s no surprise. They’re adorable with those sad, big eyes and floppy ears. They’re generally snuggly and loyal. Brandy was a wanderer. Once in awhile, she’d get free from the yard and I remember my parents quickly deploying my older brothers to go find her. They’d take off on their bikes riding through town calling to her while my older sister and I stayed behind fretting we’d never see our faithful friend again. She always returned but eventually quietly left us for good a few years later in her old age. But 30-some years since then, I still think of her fondly.
We had two more Cockers after Brandy. Sparky was rust-colored and I claimed him as my own. When he passed away my freshmen year of high school, I sobbed for days. He had been my canine BFF. Black Buffy came later and favored my sister and when I got married, a black cocker is what we brought home. Cuddles stayed with us until I was expecting my second baby and in between there, my parents’ dog Lady, had literally stayed by my side through my entire first pregnancy. It was no surprise she then became the self-appointed guardian of my daughter once she was born.
My dear friend Luke came to me quite by surprise. We were in the market for a pup to rescue. I was expecting my son at the time and had a husband who worked nights and I wanted a dog in the house. It made me feel more secure. And I loved dogs. I envisioned this cute, cuddly, tiny little pup. I had him or her all picked out in my imagination. It’d have longer hair and big eyes, much like a Cocker did. We showed up at the vet’s office on a whim after learning they had a puppy who needed rescuing. What we saw was anything but a cuddly, tiny, big-eyed, Cocker-looking puppy. What we did see, however, was a gangly, fawn-colored, six-month-old Labrador-Golden Retriever mixed boy. But he looked at me and I looked at him, our eyes met, and it was all over.
Our lovable Luke
Luke came home and was our staunch protector, faithful friend, strong boy, who at one time put himself between my kids and a much larger, much scarier looking stray dog that came on our property. Oh, how I loved Luke. He was our trusty steed and when he met an untimely passing, I was undone. He had been through so much with me personally…a difficult pregnancy and birth, and he’d loved my Dad who had loved him right back. He was a tie to my father who was also gone. Again, I sobbed for a solid week, desperately pained by this loss.
Now, we have welcomed Lillie our Beabrador and years later with a new husband, came a new puppy, Gracie. These animals love us so. They watch over us while we eat to ensure we don’t choke (that is what they do when they stare at me when I eat, right?)
“Watch” dogs over our meals.
They miss us when we’re away from the house. Even if we’re absent for a few short minutes, they greet us with enthusiasm as if we’d been away for months. Maybe to them, one hour feels like seven, just like dog years. I’ll admit, it’s a pretty great feeling to have pets jumping all over you expressing their love and devotion every time you enter a room. Gracie pines for my husband when he’s out of the house. She will sit in the window and await his return. She’s definitely his dog.
Gracie keeping a lookout for her “daddy” to return.
If you are fortunate enough to have a pet who’s waiting at home for you, who keeps your bed warm and feels comfortable enough to back it’s butt up to you while you sleep (as gross and annoying as it may be), accept the blessing. Even though we may have many in our lifetimes, each one is special and each one is beautifully loved. These little charmers love us more than we now and to them, we are their whole world!
Welcome to the maiden voyage of my first personal blog! I say “personal blog” because I blog on Blogher.com and have guest posted on other sites as well. However, I have been feeling a tug to begin my own personal blog, one where I can share pictures, thoughts, and articles I write more freely. I’ve always had a deep love for writing, ever since I was old enough to put a pencil to paper…literally at age five I was writing stories on that giant lined penmanship paper we used in school. I wrote stories about anything that affected or perplexed me. The divorce of a friend’s parents (the first I’d ever heard of such a thing) and my tonsillectomy were some big headliners for me in the early years. I never lost my passion for the written word but for awhile, my writing dream got put on a shelf for safekeeping. In the most recent couple of years I took my dream down from the shelf, dusted it off, and began blogging for the public and writing for personal growth and satisfaction.
My professional background includes working as a Medical Language Specialist for nearly two decades. Now, I spend most of my days (and some nights and some middle-of-the-nights) writing, reading, reading about writing, and researching. I also do some housework, grocery shopping, socializing and taking care of my family in there too. I’m a mom to two fabulous children, a tween boy I call Bub and a teenage girl I call My Girl. I’m married to a man who strangers think looks at least ten years younger than he is (no one makes this mistake about me). This is an incredible boost to my self-esteem, as one can imagine. He’s not younger than I am. He’s actually three years my senior, though apparently it’s not obvious by looking at him. We share our lives and our home with our Beabrador Lillie and her boss, Gracie the Pug (adorably pictured below).
I imagine you may have stumbled upon my blog because the name looked or sounded intriguing when you said “Flying Blonde” in your head. I’m a huge fan of plays on words and double entendre. I chose Flying Blonde as a play on the phrase “flying blind” because that’s pretty much how I live life… by the seat of my pants without a master plan (God’s in control of that) and more or less availing myself to what God has in store. And I’m blonde. I hope you will visit again and often. I believe I have some good things to say and share. My mission is to encourage others. I’ve been through some seriously painful stuff in life and maybe I can encourage you through something you’re struggling with. Or we can laugh, because sometimes we simply must laugh so as not to cry. I believe in laughing out loud (usually at myself) and sharing quirky, weird things that happen in life as well as some deep thoughts. I’d love to have some great conversations with you as we all navigate through this ridiculous, beautiful mess we call life. Maybe I’ll even tell you about the time I met Adam Levine…
