Two Wounded Creatures

I haven't done much blogging since I started farmville. My oldest son taught me how to play just before he took my ancient German Shepherd to the vet to be put down. My dog Charlie and I were both hurting when our paths merged. He'd had multiple previous owners, one of whom kept him caged and alone and another who had him as a living on the streets companion. Our family had been in a rollover van accident on our way home from a camping trip. Everyone was able to walk out of the vehicle but it was still overwhelming to have 6 children and 2 dogs as well as ourselves to look out for. Moms have to be moms and no one really notices how a mom is doing deep down inside. When I saw Charlie, he was one sad looking dog - like the dog Charlie in the movie "All Dogs Go to Heaven". If no one took him, he's was going to be put down. Charlie just knew I was his last best chance and jumped up on those weak hips, put his paws on my shoulders, looked me straight in the eye and convinced me to take him home against my better judgement. He decided I needed a lot of care and never let me out of his sight. If I sat down, he laid down with his paw on my foot. When I went to bed, he laid on the floor on my side of the bed. If anyone thought about being upset with me, he was right in their face. He was more devoted than a seeing-eye dog. We saved each other. But time takes it's toll. Eventually he developed a tumor on his leg and was losing the strength to stand up. I didn't know how we'd handle just a huge dog (120 lbs) if he fell down the stairs and had a painful injury. So Charlie's gone and I've replaced real dogs with virtual dogs who don't make messes or cost money or knock you over with their enthusiasm but will never save or defend or adore you.

Grade 13 Study Room

The school provided us with a Grade 13 study room. Well sometimes it did. Periodically a male phys ed teacher would claim that he smelled marijuana and we'd lose the room for a bit. Personally I didn't have a clue what marijuana smelled like and as hard as I tried to figure out what this guy was smelling, I didn't smell anything being burned - not a cigar or a cigarette or incense or anything. Probably we were the first and the last class to have the room.
So what actually happened there - a bit of work but mainly passing the time hoping for something to happen, anything to happen. We were crossing off the days. If I want to remember the feeling, I just have to plug in the video "A League of their Own".