Last night, Mr. Whiskey was grunting at me (to get my attention) as he was sitting by the screen door. I looked at him, and asked, “Do you have to go potty, baby?” He immediately began “dancing”-his ‘potty dance.’ Walking toward the door, I said; “Baby, it’s raining hard outside!” I thought he would recognize that, and decide to use the potty pad in the laundry room inside of the house.
He quickly ran outside onto the grass…and after doing what he needed to do, he ran inside and stood by the shelf where I keep the towel to dry the baby’s fur before going completely indoors. #GoodBoy🐶
I took the video showcased below; to display a wee bit of the odd behaviours that Mr. Whiskey and Princess Coco are showing. Now, everyone who knows me well, is aware of my being non-religious; that being said, I am spiritual.
So…I have explained this odd behaviour of Mr. Whiskey’s to James; he simply allows it to be heard, yet Jamie does not “get” what I am saying. Mr. Whiskey often behaves like this, but not too often for me to worry. He typically does it during the day; while James is at work, and I am doing my housework.
Most times, I am in the kitchen or laundry room when Mr. Whiskey acts like this. “This” refers to Whiskey following me around (more so than normally); it’s as if he is trying to make certain that I am safe. He stays RIGHT AGAINST ME (no exaggeration).
He will not let me stray from his field of vision; also, he is more vocal during these times. It is as if Whiskey is trying to tell me something. He looks at me, and he barks until I go see whatever / wherever something that isn’t “right” is. I comply with his wishes; but, never good enough for his satisfaction, for he refused to halt his erratic behaviour. Also, his barking is a little different in tone than it is other times.
I will follow him to the adjacent room, where Whiskey will look at me with a “MOM…do you not see that/hear that?” It is as if he is trying to make me aware of something. I’ve come to the conclusion, that Mr. Whiskey is seeing/hearing something–more aptly, SOMEONE. So, I’ve talked to who I KNOW it to be for several months, now.
She has yet to respond to me in a way that I will recognize easily. I often say to her, “Hello, Dot (Jamie’s mother who passed away in 2003)….” as I explain what is that I am doing. I will explain that I love her home, and do not wish to make any differences that will cause her to feel as if I am “taking over” and “trying to make Jamie forget her.”
When I spoke to HUD about this several weeks ago; I also shared with him the occurrence that caused me to believe it is Dot. I was cleaning out the bottom of the pantry in our kitchen; of course, sitting on the kitchen tile as I was doing such. Mr. Whiskey, of course, was nearby. He began walking and sitting closer to me, as I was sitting in the floor.
Whiskey started quietly barking/growling in the direction of where the main entrance into the kitchen is. I did not think anything of it; assuming that he had heard something outdoors. The barking became more frequent and louder; along with the growling being more intense. Of course, I was a little frightened…but, I continued to do what I had started, and try to get our pantry cleaned out.
Then, Whiskey started getting far more serious with his barking. He had his gaze LOCKED in the direction of the main entryway to the kitchen. He began sidling up against me (as if he were protecting me), and kept lowly growling and barking loudly. Having done this a few times prior; I quickly recognized that it was not anything negative at which Whiskey was barking, but he did not understand it.
I softly explained to Whiskey that it was “okay” and that who he was barking at is Jamie’s mom, Dot. I explained that she was probably wanting to make sure t I was not doing anything wrong or that she was not comfortable with; after all, we were in HER kitchen. I told Mr. Whiskey that she had every right to be here, and she was not going to hurt him. I even said a few things to her aloud. I thanked her for allowing me to use her kitchen and call it my own. I told her how grateful I was for all of her kitchen tools/gadgets. This is when Whiskey started to accept the presence that he sensed–after I spoke, and wasn’t afraid of it.
When I told him; James seemed to believe me; but I think it was more because he was afraid of being shamed into thinking I am silly. I asked James if he ever felt his Mom; and he strongly denied it. However, I have felt her…and I had not ever met her before she passed. But, a woman can sense when another woman is in her home; making changes to it.
I’m not sure when that was whhen I felt her so strongly…but, I believe that she visited again, earlier today. It was brief…but, Whiskey is still refusing to leave my lap. It has been well over one hour…
I’ve taken video of how Mr. Whiskey behaved and in this clip The Princess is acting out of sorts, too…
I am uncertain if it is because of my TBI or if it is just my “built-in” laziness for thinking of doing something…and rarely achieving that goal sooner than later. I have thought of writing in this ‘blog;’ but I don’t ever find the time. I blame it on being I am a house”wife”…and our “children” (pups) need my attention…I blame the not finding time to write on having to cook dinner, and do laundry…it seems to me that I always wish to write more when I am writing solely for my eyes/comprehension. I get a bit “gun-shy” when I KNOW for a fact that my words are being read.
Even if people in my every day life are telling me that “I’ve been reading your blog” … people from my 2nd home country of England are informing my love that they are reading my blog … random strangers are “liking” the blog on FB … random folks are following the blog and random people are getting E-mail updates. It is this part of being a writer that scares me the most. As I have said MANY times before; when I write…it is what I am feeling; and I have always been very guarded with sharing my emotions…for fear of being hurt.
My partner in life (thank you for allowing me to feel validated in saying that, “Mike”) has helped me to realize that I can share how I feel and what I think…I don’t have to worry about anyone’s opinions. I have been trying for almost 20 years to do this; “this,” being that I have been trying to feel as if I can write…and have others read my work for such a long time.
Publishing my poetry online (and having 2 of the poems published in a book); led to my releasing the fears mentioned before. I am incredibly fearful of sharing my thoughts / feelings. For those who know me, the fact that I said that is really surprising; I have always been vocal about what I think.
I tried to use ‘prompts’ to write fictional pieces, and found that I was always incorporating a bit of truth into the works. I am attending a seminar this Saturday; at the seminar, I hope that the local blogger, now turned business woman, is able to fuel my NEED to settle on a particular way of writing.
I am better at writing “journal-esque” types…but, I have found that I can write fiction. I just need more practice with that…the few short(!) stories I have written are under the heading “Will these matches turn to kindling?”I chose that title because I would get my prompts for writing from a book entitled “The Writer’s Book of Matches: 1001 Prompts To Ignite Your Fiction.” Even with those prompts, I would change a key element in the prompt…to sort of make it “my own.”
I appreciate you for sticking with me…I AM a writer. I accepted that a few years ago when I was going to a University to get a degree in Communications with an emphasis of Broadcasting. Even my instructors then told me I need to be a writer… Family/friends/high school teachers/junior college teachers/instructors at a University (one who actually wrote several pieces for TIME magazine) all have believed that I should use the talent.
Okay, I am going to try…please bear with me; as I’ve mentioned earlier, I tend to ‘shut down’ when I realize people are reading my work. WISH ME LUCK!
Because I truly want to feel that my wrong-doings are resolved;
I choose to trust what my spiritual advisor envisions.
It is seen that you are NOT the man with whom I should continue to be involved;
according to the views, the ways you behave are not completely your decisions.
By no means, does that allow your actions to be absolved;
instead, it is my feelings that are in need of revision.
The happiness we were starting to share was becoming expected;
frightened, I needed space for my head/heart to gather cognition.
Quickly, my feelings were accepted;
I listened to my internal decision.
Sharing that with you, caused me to be rejected;
regardless of what you said, I still have my suspicions.
However, circumstances seen are not a given;
my belief is correct, the future is able to be written.
When I am happy deep inside of myself; I want to go out and play the part.
Similarly, when I am conflicted within my core; my creativity flows.
I don’t write when there isn’t anything plaguing my brain…my feelings…my heart.
Maybe this is why I seek out the most complications; to fuel my creative productivity.
All artists are melancholy, that fact is well known; when sad or mad, the expression glows.
If I am happy, I desperately try to seek out my beautiful creative spirit for activity.
As of late, that is why my writing prospects seemed dim;
To write well, I need to feel jaded—instead of elated.
Even if I have not felt this strongly for another since my absolute best friend; I refuse to allow this man’s lack of action to make me feel so grim.