My Staffordshire terrier, more commonly known as a pitbull, is looking particularly scruffy. She is the new boss dog. She has the part of holding Loretta down but she doesn't bite other dogs. So Loretta bites the heck out of her. I come home to break up a strange fight. Loretta is screaming and Louise has her held down.
Loretta looks perfect. However an old dog is stiff getting up. Louise is flustered. Like I thought you would never get home. Loretta is neurotic is hell. I only leave the cats loose with Loretta. One time when we left, I came back in to get something and my tom cat was grooming Loretta, trying to make her feel better.
Anyway, Louise is my beloved pet and muse. I identify with her. She is judged by her appearances yet has a heart of gold. Of course, whether I have a heart of gold is up to others to consider.
I worked with a young co-worker who said my kind, Southern Baptist, did not like her because she was a Northerner and Catholic. The two women I worked with, prissy Methodist knew my nominal hold on religion.
Having been plenty "young and dumb". At a late age, I may add. I buttered her up. She was a sweet girl; our prejudices are in our fears.
I had a strong opinion about pit bulls until I owned one. I don't believe in breeding any dog. I did not see anything wrong with backyard breeding until I learned of so many purebreds needing homes. It breaks their minds to a degree dependent on their age and how long they have been abandoned.
Matilda was a stray that I adopted. My house is off the road and she had strayed up and down the road for months. Her nickname was Mona because she constantly pled her fealty to us which was annoying. The moaning never really ended totally. It was just cool that she would pick low hanging fruit from the pear and apple trees to eat. Peel a banana and you made her day.
Matilda was a constant and patient companion to Partner who had some serious issues. You could not touch Partner, she had been abused so badly by someone. When I moved her, she healed so much. She would lick the back of my legs when I walked the dogs. All the dogs knew she was daft.
Matilda disappeared one day. About two months later, Partner came home with a funny wound and died. It was a gunshot wound.
I know who is probably responsible for both animals and two others. I have no proof.
I know someone knows the truth.
I lost four pets within a four month period, But I haven't lost any more. It will be two years in February.
I know this is why they hate me. They know I know the truth.
Louise gets in bed with me. She likes to lay her head on a pillow and be covered up. You can dress a mule up like a horse.
A mix of thoughts, experiences, flash fiction, poetry and humor of Ann Bennett.
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