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The first memory I have of my granny. She was always there for me. I miss her everyday of my life. She was the only one who ever loved me for who I was and never tried to change me. Ever. She was an odd woman, making almost everything homemade, never wanting to mingle with other people. Some say she was a witch. I think she was just lonely. A woman not interested in the normal, day to day bickering of life.



I was in the front yard with her, "helping" with her garden. She says I was singing a song. I do not remember what the song was. She said I was singing, as young girls do. I don't know how true it is but she said I attracted a whole crowd of neighbors. With one little song I could draw tears from their eyes.



I love music and I remember her bringing out a tape player that could record voices. She would have us girls sing to her and record it. She had me do a lot of them. I wish I could have been there when they went through her stuff. I would love a piece of my childhood. As it is, I barely have pictures of her. I was three years old.



God I miss her so much. I wish I could have said goodbye to her. I wish she hadn't of died the way she did. I have had many dreams of her. One I do believe she helped me predict the birth of my oldest son, Scott. But that is another memory. Another entry of the journal...

I was sitting on a big boulder out in the woods, feeding a small kitten that I found and took pity on. She was a gangly little thing and needed a safe warm home. I could not take her home with me. I found a box with an old stack of towels in it. I took it from the closet to make a bed for my little guest. I was little more than six or seven at the time.



I was on my way home when I saw him along the road. He was whimpering and breathing heavily. I saw that he was very hurt. Knowing that I had nothing to help him I put the box down next to him and laid my hand along his side, where most of the bleeding was coming from. He did not growl at me. He stilled and looked at me with the biggest brown eyes I have ever seen. He was hurt, probably dying and yet he still showed no fear.



"I will be back with help." I whispered to him. Taking my hand off of him I ran to my house where I found my father out in the yard, just finishing up the mowing. I told him about the massive creature I had found and he agreed to go look at him with me.



Happy excitement ran through me as we gather up supplies to go help the big, brown eyed creature that needed our help. My father brought a knife along as well. I showed him where he was and he helped me get him to the shed next to the house. He said that he did not know if the animal would survive.



We patched him up the best we could and gave him fresh water and a little bit of soft food. I was to check on him every hour until bedtime, then he would take over until I woke up, then I was to again check on him every hour until he returned home from work. I did this for week and weeks. Sometimes falling asleep next to this massive and beautiful creature. He was happy to see me everyday, and every day that went by he got stronger and more friendly.



I was the only one he would walk with. My mother said I had a bewitching power over him. I said i was the only one brave enough to take care of him when he was so hurt. I want to call him a dog. But my heart told me he was more than that. A wolf mix perhaps. He was so tall he could put his paws on top my dad's head and stand easily. My father was 6 foot 3 inches tall.



It was little over about six months and he followed me everywhere. He was loyal and beautiful so massive and big that I could ride him around the yard and woods easily. The night he became more than just a fluffy "dog" was the day he saved MY life.



I was waiting outside one morning for the bus to go school. The air was bitingly cold and sharp. I had to bundle up tightly to keep from shivering. Coffee was his name. My miracle "dog". He was standing tall and proud next to me, letting me bury my face in his fur to keep warm. The bus had to come out to get us eight miles out of town. They were running late today because of the snow storm the night before. I was standing with my little sister and older sister. They were too scared to touch Coffee. He has never made a move toward them in a bad manner.



My mother stood there with her nose turned up and away from Coffee. She has a major dislike for dogs. She thinks they are stinky and useless. Well she was standing the closest to the trees. All of a sudden we heard growling. She turned to me and opened her mouth, probably to scold me for my "dog" making noise.



What came out of her mouth was a scream. She pointed, grabbed my younger sister's hand and began running backwards. I turned, barely in time to see the coyotes coming at us from three sides. The only way to go was toward the house. But we would never have made it. That is, without Coffee.



He lunged and jumped and snarled at those beasts, making them chase him instead. Making himself the threat instead of us. They circled him and lunged back, raking claws and grabbing at him with teeth. I was so scared for my Coffee that I did not think and ran to him.



He snarled at me and lunged to knock me back, just in time to take a full set of teeth to his side. I screamed his name, and tried to stay. My mother caught me and drug me back toward the house and shut and locked the door. The fight eventually ceased and I went in search of my beloved Coffee.



It felt like forever but I found him. He was not too terribly hurt. I was so relieved to see him breathing I threw myself at him. He laid his shaggy head on mine and I cried for a time and he let me. He was such a loyal "dog". I had my father and this time my older sister helped me get him home. He was allowed to finally enter our house. He did not like that very much. But with my help I got him to settle down my room and laid down so I could look him over.



It was not so bad. Although he had to have stitches along his side and leg this time. He did not want to lay still for that. But I looked into his eyes and held him while tears ran from those big brown eyes. He whimpered and cried and all the while I held him. He was finally able to rest.

He was better in no time at all. He was the best "dog" I have ever met. Then came the time where we lost the house and had to move. We had to leave him behind. No one in their right mind would rent to us in the city with this pony with us. I remember that day like no other.



He ran after our car until he couldn't anymore. He stopped in the middle of the road and howled. It was such a sad sound it haunted my dreams for years afterwards. A neighbor of ours tried to take him in, but he would not eat, did not sleep. He said Coffee laid there and just died inside. I miss that "dog" so much. He has been in my dreams for the past week. I know he is not on this plane anymore.



This is sad and happy at the same time. He has my heart and soul. I will cherish the time I had with him until I meet him on the other side once again. I don't know why this memory came back to me so vividly. It just did and I did not want to lose it. I has to be for a reason. Maybe he is still protecting me after all this time?

A real life memory.

COMMENTS

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Isis101
04:04 Apr 08 2014

Well written and so sad. Stories about pets always get to me...

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karatebabe1021
18:41 Apr 08 2014

Telling that story will keep him alive. And may be he his your spirit guide now..Thank you for sharing that. I am sorry you had to leave him.

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