So I didn’t know what to post about today. I was just struggling with the reality of this month…
We had one of our chicken, who are pets go missing. Stray dogs scared her out of the yard. She was seen a block away, injured. She was the second one we have lost this month.
The first one was a baby silkie who got into the duck pool and drowned.
This is after our cat died.
So, this was a really rough month for me and my family.
I had posted in the local Facebook group that we were looking for her(the chicken). She has been missing five days today. We are facing the idea that she’s gone. Well Tuesday I got a message saying that a black chicken was wandering loose two blocks in the other direction.
My child is heartbroken at the loss of their baby. So dad and I went to check it out. We found a pair of loose chickens. They were not willing to be in the coop. Their owners were willing to give them to us if we could catch them.
Of the two we brought one home and the other one is supposed to be caught and given to us today.
Now the new one is peanut and is setting in well. I swear she purred the whole way home.
If you are a facebook friend or follow my Instagram… you have seen me post yesterday that our family cat has passed. That means I am a true mess. My Child is the Intern doing the Fae Corps blog…So I scheduled it for them…because in so many ways Luna was their baby. We are going to be okay…but it will take time. This is probably the only post I am doing for Wednesday & Thursday here. I will schedule my usual Friday post. By Monday I should be back to my routine…but if not then I will try to pick it back up as soon as I can. We are used to a very vocal baby who is now silent. This will be hard.
If I had only known the last time would be the last time I would’ve put off all the things I had to do I would’ve stayed a little longer, held on a little tighter Now what I’d give for one more day with you ‘Cause there’s a wound here in my heart where something’s missing And they tell me that it’s gonna heal with time But I know you’re in a place where all your wounds have been erased And knowing yours are healed is healing mine The only scars in Heaven, they won’t belong to me and you There’ll be no such thing as broken, and all the old will be made new And the thought that makes me smile now, even as the tears fall down Is that the only scars in Heaven are on the hands that hold you now I know the road you walked was anything but easy You picked up your share of scars along the way Oh, but now you’re standing in the sun, you’ve fought your fight and your race is run The pain is all a million miles away The only scars in Heaven, they won’t belong to me and you There’ll be no such thing as broken, and all the old will be made new And the thought that makes me smile now, even as the tears fall down Is that the only scars in Heaven, yeah, are on the hands that hold you now Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah, for the hands that hold you now There’s not a day goes by that I don’t see you You live on in all the better parts of me Until I’m standing with you in the sun, I’ll fight this fight and this race I’ll run Until I finally see what you can see, oh-oh The only scars in Heaven, they won’t belong to me and you There’ll be no such thing as broken, and all the old will be made new And the thought that makes me smile now, even as the tears fall down Is that the only scars in Heaven are on the hands that hold you now
My 2 Cents –
This is the second time I am posting a grief song. This one is based on my daughter’s pet chicken. She went to sleep and didn’t wake up. Poor baby. So this has been a long weekend.
sitting on my porch, watching the chicken that my daughter has…(she’s cleaning up it’s cage) and it is letting her opinion of my porch be known…well if it wasn’t pouring rain we would be walking around the yard…
To start this story I need to explain something. I lived in a two-bedroom trailer with often ten or more people. We did not have running water. We lived a mile back in the woods. There were always animals…dogs, birds, cats…But this story focuses on one cat. The cat that left a lifetime mark on me. B.c. which was short for bad cat. He wasn’t bad. He was amazing. I did not have a bedroom. Mom and Pop had one, and my two stepbrothers had the other. My little brother and I slept on couches in the living room. There was another couch that whoever was staying over slept on. And we had a weird guy in a tent outside for most of my preteen years. Sometimes somebody in a camper outside as well. The people who slept on that couch had a few things in common. Usually, they were male. Often they were seen as trustworthy. They were not always.
We moved in there when I was eleven. I however have had an adult-shaped body since I was 8-9. Many of the men would try to make sure I knew that they wanted more from me than I was willing to give. Well BC was my defender. Those that crossed lines with me would often find that they woke to cat poop on their chests. He did not do it with everyone…and I did not control him. But it felt like He was always taking care of me.
Now anyone who has a cat will tell you that they bring you presents. BC was no exception. I often received dead mice. bird or lizard carcasses. I got very used to just using a paper towel and throwing them away.
I started ninth grade late…it was October when I started school that year because I had my son on the first of September. I was fourteen. So I had a lot of kids who picked on me. I was just as weird in high school as I am now, if not more so. And I had a kid. It was no secret. So one of the freshmen during my sophomore year thought that he could make a name for himself by pranking me. He just choose a poor prank considering my life. He saw a dead mouse laying outside the cafeteria. I had a bad habit of leaving my stuff at the table when I went through the line for breakfast. It wasn’t like I owned anything worth stealing. My purse at the time would have had my nail polish, an electric blue or black color, my wallet which was always empty, my hairbrush, a pen and notepad, and maybe some chapstick. On the rare occasion I would have my prized possession, a mini-cassette recorder my grandmother had bought me. So I would dump that and my backpack on the table and go get in line for my free breakfast.
The boy chose to put the mouse corpse in my purse. I discovered it in first-period Biology class when I went looking for my pen. I just calmly did what I always did with such things, believing it to be a gift from BC. I used a paper towel and disposed of it. The boy had expected a scream. I didn’t. So he approached, apologized, and became a friend. It was decided that I would be called Mouse due to the incident, and it stuck…I am still mouse at 47, the nickname was assigned when I was 15.
Bc left that winter. He never came back. I am aware that cats will go find someplace to die. But we never found him or his body…and I believe in the fae. So I can tell myself that the fae stole him because he was too smart for the human world. And I can enjoy the memories of the cat that got into so much mischief that it became his name.
I am not sure if I will do the proper posts tomorrow or another of my stories from childhood…I will have to decide then. Thank you for your patience with my whims.
Not poetry related, I know. Still my brain is a little bit fried. So instead of trying to fight against the brain fog… I decided to share what we got yesterday. I will return to poetry related posts on Sunday.
Pattimouse 