… Lagged?

Okay…. I was just about to go to bed and was cleaning up some old drafts… I found this… HOW????

 

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Realize the whole “you have 3 drafts” (I trashed one when it said I have 2) WHEN I ONLY HAVE 2!!!!!!!!

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My BIRTHDAY!

So… this is late… But a little more than a month ago I had my birthday! So… officially I am a year older. Yay?

 

 

So… getting older… It’s a weird thing. I think it mainly appears on perspective. For some people it’s this terrible thing, for others it’s part of life, and for other people (like Adeline. If you don’t know Age Of Adeline YOU MUST SEE IT! IT’S AMAZING!) it’s beautiful and natural.

 

It’s not like I gained more knowledge as I became older or anything, but…. I think it’s a part of life. Unless someone magically (or scientifically) finds a way to slow down aging… I would probably take it. And no. It’s not that I want to remain young and pretty (I honestly don’t think myself “pretty”) it would be so I don’t miss the whole “flying cars” thing and the rest that the future holds.

Think about it… how awesome would it be to have been alive since like… horses and buggies to flying cars or teleportation! That would be EPIC!

 

But back to the original topic… Aging. (I suppose I could make a “Let’s Talk” about this… But I’m not going to because I’m lazy! XD) It can be a sensitive topic. But everything just leads back to the same thing. The fear, or not fear, of getting old. My question is (post your answer in the comments) why are people so scared of getting old? If not, why would they be scared? What is so beautiful about aging, or staying young?

Seriously, I have NO idea…

Long Time No See

Oh wow. I haven’t really been on here for the longest time. But life has been life, with school and everything.

 

Sam is going nuts because my mom’s home from work.

Ouch! Just stepped on one of Percy’s toys. Dogs… gotta love them.

But something I realized is that dogs are literally perfect.

Sure you have to train them, but they are. Let me explain.

  1. Loyalty. Dog will be loyal to their humans… forever. It’s one of the things we humans lack sometimes.
  2.  Love. Okay Okay. Humans can have this too. But do humans love each other to no end? Don’t know danger because all they want is to protect? Just stare and memorize every exact detail so they never forget? Come running over to the person they love like the world was going to end but then they came? Writing this now I realize I could write a poem about love… Anyway… I know everyone who’s married or dating would say yes. But we can’t really understand how much dogs love us. Granted the dog’s brain lights up where our brains light up when we see someone we deeply love with.  But will that person sacrifice themselves just because they don’t want you to feel like you need to do it? That’s what a dog’s love means. Any dog lover would agree.
  3. Playfulness. As humans age they get less playful, because of getting tired out or breathless. Dogs can get to where they would be eighty in dog years yet will sometimes still play like a puppy. I think everyone will agree with me when I say that no human can have a dogs playfulness through their entire life. (Percy is running around in a circle like a madman while Sam is just moving across the room to come face-to-face with Percy which sets him off in the other direction, ect.)
  4.  Last but not least… Adorable. Sure babies are a rival for this… but are babies like adorable furry pillows? I don’t think so. Are all babies adorable their entire lives? Some, but not all. (I mean no offense to anyone.) However dog lovers never get tired of looking at their dog. Maybe we do understand part of a dog’s love.

 

 

It’s how we love them back.

 

You know, A dog can snap you out of any bad mood you’re in faster than you can think of.

~ Jill Abramson

 

 

Dreamywritercom

Iggy

Before I start on this blog I want to say something.

My cat, Iggy, died in 2017 during winter. I had known him all my life. The morning he died I was petting him crying. Overnight his soul had really left his body. I had told him I wanted to be there when he died. His body was hanging on to life. That morning my parents came up and got me and told me Iggy was still alive but was like a shell of what he once was. I begged them to let me say goodbye. They, with much arguing, let me. My mother took me down and showed me my beloved cat. He was cold and his eyes were glazed. I couldn’t believe this was the adorable playful Iggy I had grown to love more than many things. Tears had begun to run down my face. I felt hollow inside. Every now and then he would take a gasping breath. I asked my mother if she could leave me with him, and she left with a hug and kiss. I leaned my head down asking for forgiveness for ignoring him and pushing him away. My tears soaked his dirty fur. His heartbeat was faint and I told him it was okay. He could leave. He didn’t need to wait. I don’t know when he left but when I checked for his heartbeat again, it was gone. I ran upstairs telling my parents Iggy had just died. I broke that day.

I don’t think I recovered from that. My first friend had just died in my arms. I don’t think I’m still fully recovered. Recovering from something like that is like building a bridge. It takes a while and even after that the hole is built over. Even having Percy doesn’t quite fill the void that was made after my cat died.

My parents let me stay home from school and asked if I wanted to come to cremate Iggy. I shook my head. That wasn’t Iggy. That was his shell. I brought down one of my baby blankets to be burned with him. My parents let Sam sniff Iggy for him to realize Iggy was gone. Even Sam couldn’t find a good reason to wag his tail that day. I went on my email to tell my friends what happened. They made me laugh. My parents sent my brother to school and let me stay. I cried and cried. I felt as if my organs had been ripped from me. The pain wasn’t the problem, but the emptiness. I couldn’t imagine life without him. I regretted each time I pushed him away. Each time I had ignored his meows for food. Each time I got mad at him for going to the bathroom out of his litter box. I wanted to hear his annoying meows again to wake me up. It hit me then. I would never hear him. I would never see him. I would never pet him.

I’m writing this and I feel like crying. Dang it. Now I am.

I will love Iggy forever. A wise person once said “Grief is just love with no where to go.” I felt that. All the love I had for Iggy was trapped inside until it hurt. I loved my family so much closer. I wanted to be near them. Regretting not going with them to the store. What if that was the last time I saw them? I would regret and hate myself again. I hated myself for pushing Iggy away. What would it be like if I didn’t say “I love you” to my parents before they left and then they never returned? What if, What if, What if? I asked myself these questions all day. I wanted to refuse all food, wanting to just lay there, tears staining my sheets.

There are days where I still want to do that. Usually days where Iggy would be sunning himself, The sun glinting off his fur, his green eyes staring at you.

The thing about grief is that it feels as if you’re drowning in sorrow. I’m sure if my family knew I was writing this, they would’ve taken me to the hospitable. I don’t blame them. I promise you Imma and Abba, I no longer feel this way about anything. I was broken after my cat died, he really was like an older brother. I still miss him, but instead of focusing on the bad things I focus on the good memories of him. Like the memory of me picking him up so much he hissed at me. Ah… Good times.

I’m serious. If anyone starts feeling they way this blog made you feel, get help. Talk to your family. Get a therapist. These thoughts can turn dark and and lead to depression. Anyone if you see a person that is smiling but doesn’t look okay or has a history of being depressed and you see it again, talk to them. Help them. They may not always reach out. So please reach out for them. Talk to them, hang out with them. As I was writing this blog I was shocked I didn’t reach out.

Love,

Dreamywritercom

PERCY UPDATE!!!

I know it’s been awhile since I’ve made a Percy update. But I’m making one now. Percy is doing very good here. He’s settled in and found a place within the pack. He and Sam are always playing. But there are a couple of yips here and there because of the difference in size. But Percy has had rough spots here and there. Like the time he snuck too much of Sam’s food. Helike had a pound of poop in him… poor baby. He gets into mischief like every other puppy. On his back half his puppy fur is changing into grown dog fur… oh well.😒 Sam is definately his role model and (thankfully) has taught him not to nip people but Percy still does it when he all riled up. I haven’t seen Sam so happy in a long time. He plays like a little puppy “again” Granted he was never little. LOL. Percy chewed off his bowtie….

 

I don’t always eat treats but when I do… WAIT! What am, I saying? I always eat treats!

Doghumor.net

Dreamywritercom

Pittsburg

As some of you might know last week there was a shooting at a shul in Pittsburg. 11 people were killed and some are still in critical condition. The oldest of the people killed was a 97 year old holocaust survivor. Which according to Google they were just 25 years old then. To survive hitler (he was a jerk, I would use a stronger more mean word but I’m not allowed to cuss. A story is a different thing.) and then die because of a freaking anti-semitic (doesn’t deserve to be capitalized.) is unimaginable. The youngest was 52, I think. It’s just terrible.  At my shul on Shabbos there were cops patrolling the neighborhood and outside. It’s wonderful that there are people who care. But then there are people who don’t.

For instance my mother and I went into a bookstore, and when we ere checking out this lady kept harassing us to buy a membership cad thingy. My mother kept telling her no. But then she brought up the holidays. Finally my mother told her we were jewish. She said this:

“Oh. I’m so sorry about Pittsburg.” Thanks for reminding us… 😡

Mother: “Thank you. It’s been a hard week.” Pro Mom!

Cashier: “Oh, for the Christians too!”

It’s not like I have anything against Christians or anything, my BTCFF (Best Traffic Cone Friend Forever) is one, and I know that doesn’t I know everything about Christianity, I mean maybe the cashier was trying to comfort us in some strange way. I don’t know.

I know it’s short and I haven’t written anything  yet, but I’m going to eat dinner soon. Thanks guys! (the image is Leafpool.)

Dreamywritercom

Destiny isn’t a path any cat follows blindly. It’s always a matter of choice, and sometimes the heart speaks loudest.”

Leafpool, Sign Of The Moon, pg. 108