Little Girlfriends

That's me on the left.

Heather is in the middle and Wendy is on the right.

They lived 2 doors down and were my earliest friends.

As I was working on this picture I started to smell their house.

It smelled friendly and comfortable, like toast.

Other memories of three little girls who were loved and protected

surfaced as I sat at my drawing table.

But I was also aware of the shadow that was looming over us that day.

It got into bed with me later and I tossed and turned for hours reliving ugly

events that I still don't like to think about.

 

In those days divorce was illegal and very rare in Canada.

Their father took his new wife to Ohio in the USA and raised a second

family. 

 

The girls and their mother eventually moved away from Merritton

when I was about 10.

 

It was the beginning of the end of my childhood.

A Happy Story

I have nasty neighbours.

And unfriendly.

They bought the condo next door awhile back

and the only good thing I can say about them

is that they have a sweet 12 year old golden.

Not that I ever got to know the dog.

Anyway they look to be in their early twenties.

They should be full of life, in love and happy.

But they are sour people.

The only conversation I had with the young man

went like this:

YM:  Your dog barks all the time.

Me: (puzzled because there are only two mornings

a week when Flynn isn't with me), She does?

YM: Yeah and my wife is pissed. She's gonna

write a letter.

And sure enough a note came from the condo board

addressed to everyone but complaining about barking

dogs (and kids on long boards).

 

So to try to mend fences I've been keeping my blinds

closed when I'm not here so that Flynn can't see any

passers-by but the neighbours remained cold.

 

Today Flynn barked and worried I hurried to the window

only to see that YM had parked his car in front of my house

and was lugging stuff from his place and putting it in the car.

I was outraged.

Why the heck wasn't he loading his car in front

of his own place?

"You're trying to make my dog bark!" I said.

"Yeah," he sneered and walked away.

I went and got my broom and leaned on it

like the crone that I am.

"I'm taking a picture of this for the next time

you complain about my dog barking," I said

and whipped out my cell phone.

That got his attention.

"Hey, there's a moving van coming in a few minutes,"

he huffed.

And, halleluiah, so there was.

 

 

Some stories have a happy ending.




***

Sweet Rudy

This is Rudy.

He lives next door.

When his master was dying of cancer last year, 

Rudy stayed on his bed constantly during the last few difficult weeks,

so protective he even growled at the nurse.

He's just that kind of a guy.

He's staying with me this week because his mistress is away.

My neighbour gave Rudy one of her husband's sweaters to lie on

because he seemed very depressed after the death.

She said it really helped.

This is Rudy today, running towards me when I call his name.

I love this valiant little dog.

Today Flynn and I are taking him to the stinky horse barn.

Then after supper maybe we'll go to the North Pelham

ball park and sniff around the garbage cans.

I ask you,

could life possibly get any better than that?