Buddy~the runaway pooch

Memories

Saturday should be a good day. It started off rather ordinarily but that was short lived. My 7 year old step-son decided to go out of the side gate and our two dogs decided to take a romp and stomp round the neighborhood. All of this occuring while my hubby was running errands. As lovely as I looked I rush out of the house to chase the beasts. In the heat of the moment all I could think about was having to call my daughter (who is staying at her dad's this weekend) and say, "You know your beloved little Buddy? Well he's in the great pasture in the sky." That would have been fabulous! My husband drives into the cul de sac to find me driving out like a mad woman in the mini van. He later revealed that he was sure I'd finally lost my noodle and was running away from home. After 20 minutes of looking calling, crying, and getting sooo close only to have Buddy dart at the last possible minute. Sam, on the other hand, decided to come directly to me. I suppose he is the dumb one because he was absolutely oblivious to what I was doing, trying to trap him. Finally with Buddy and Sammy in tow we made it back to the house. To my absolute horror I realized that I was in my pajamas (no bra) and since I was in the process of straightening my hair it frizzy and in a single rubber band on the top of my head. Now, I'm sure that my neighbors loved seeing me in such a state and I'm defintely embarrassed.

But other than that exciting event today was just a depressing kind of day. I didn't even take a nap in the tanning bed like I usually do and when I left to go to the produce market I suddenly choked up and wanted to cry. It was like suddenly a beautiful spring day turned sad for me. I started thinking of my paternal grandfather and wishing that I could just reach out and give him a hug and just sit down and have a conversation. Papa passed away quite suddenly of a heartattack when Bre was not quite 2. Luckily for me we had spent the previous weekend with him and had a very nice time. Because my father was so immature (still is for that matter) I spent most of my childhood bonding with my Papa rather than my father. He was such a wonderful soul that I've yet to meet anyone who could even compare to him. I can say that I never saw him loose his temper or talk harshly to anyone. He had the kind of patience that I can only dream of having. Nostalgia swept over me and even now I'm saddened by the fact that I can't speak to him and tell him about the path that my life has taken. I'm doubly saddened by the fact that he has not been able to see the beautiful young woman that my daughter, Breanna, is turning into.

~sigh~