Tag: Dog

Tale 271 ~V’s Language To B~

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It’s harder to lie if you can’t speak. Or if you’re crazy. Then there’s the gibberish. I could also talk or not about the dog speak. I clap at Virgil’s successes and hope he gets right from wrong. Like me? It takes language skills… V’s Language To B.

Thursday, March 28, 2024

Tale 271 ~V’s Language To B~

1152 Days Without B III, Day 593 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Do you remember asking about mine? No. I’d fall asleep while you would stand guard.

I don’t want to cry today. And to be clear, it’s Wednesday, March 20, 2024. So yes, Braxton, the Day Job is still rough. Indeed, this entire existence, which everyone considers Easy Street, is… Well, Hell! And not one person understands Braxton. Oh! I don’t talk and such, THEY say.

You aren’t a person. But you were far from a pet. And a pal? B, you are always my son.

And I miss talking to you. I miss having someone who understands me being here. Braxton, that’s what I’ve been thinking about over the past few days. I swear! Computers, critics! Company? No one I’ve invited has been here in a long time. Virgil Vivi? Inevitably, we’ll have to talk. But now breathing is enough.

And at the same time, too much. How can one be so quiet and, at the same time, so loud?

It’s safer to choose the former. That’s why I talk to you, the girls, and the man in the mirror. But even then, there’s The Critic. And either THEY think I’m depressed or I can’t be understood. I would even take being crazy if THEY at least got me. Contradictions!

And don’t get me started on censorship. If I wanted to say a dirty word, why not this one, Braxton? “Euthanasia.” It was the last misunderstanding between us. You didn’t understand why you were leaving. And I’ve never bought into such a clinical term, B.

You didn’t disappear. You didn’t. You only died. And I would have followed you. My son. My lieutenant. My prince.

Now you and I know where all that is from, Braxton. But I won’t even bother with The Critic. THEY won’t ever get it. But again, I want everyone to know. I’m not like Cherry.

Braxton, you are much smarter than I am. You understood why I was writing all the time… for us. So you could appreciate Cherry’s work. We knew cantaloupes and melons.

Virgil, on the other hand. I need to learn his language because I’m ready to give up on people and their creations. I don’t know how to communicate with them. While I’m spending money not to talk. How much are animal communicators? You’re gone. Virgil’s not. V’s Language To B

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 269 ~B Gives Virgil Space~

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When I say I will “Go The Distance,” it’s like my mind finding anything intelligent. Or having a family that includes more than a four-legged friend. What about being *happy.* There’s no space not with my grief and fear. “And Virgil wants room.”

Tuesday, March 26, 2024

Tale 269 ~B Gives Virgil Space~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… To the moon and back? How about if the sun should refuse to rise, love?

You’ll have to forgive a friend here or there texting me about space. And you know your husband has always been into Star Wars. For that, I won’t apologize. But distance, space, and the void? My love, have you yet to understand how great my son was in this existence?

What do I mean was? Take yesterday, for example. Anytime I’m afraid, or something becomes too overwhelming. I remember the worst thing I’ve survived. Euthanasia! Specifically, the loss of my firstborn son, B III. And then everything else seems livable.

Anyway, yesterday afternoon, I took Virgil to the groomers. While waiting for him, I saw a dog crate that doubled as a nightstand. A place for B III and 2V, my love. My furry sons.

The idea of making space for them both together? And yet Braxton in his box. Or wherever he exists. And Virgil lying in a soft bed underneath. They’re both far.

Remember earlier this morning when Virgil Vivi was upset over the storm? Whether he was in our room or Braxton’s, the space between him and me doesn’t matter, my love.

I was driving to pick Virgil Vivi up, and I was thinking. If PetSmart harmed him? I have two words for them. John Wick. But I can’t say I love Virgil. Nowhere near my Braxton

But What About The Rest Of Us? V isn’t going anywhere. And there are always you, our children, and a few friends. I’m not counting myself. The man I am. I want him far away.

Only that’s the man you fell in love with. Underneath these clothes is an endless story. And the man you chose. I swear, Shakira, Shakira, ha-ha! Bragging about my manhood?

But seriously, The Space In Between Us, my love, this is what I’ve been thinking about all morning. I keep saying that Braxton is sending me messages from books lately. Between how to keep a fur buddy’s memory alive and Darrow protecting his friends, too.

Now, ask me what that tells me about being close to you, my love. All of my fears, the fence, and our finances. Braxton got so close to me before I knew anything, love. While you had me saying Somethin’ Stupid. B Gives Virgil Space

1150 Days Without B III, Day 591 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 265 ~Virgil Booked Fairytales, Braxton~

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While in school, I read lots because whatever was in the textbooks… Maybe I was lucky, considering how the GOP/GQP wants to teach now. Still, my days are filled with avoiding such lessons. But the books I read… “Virgil Booked Fairytales Braxton”

Friday, March 22, 2024

Tale 265 ~Virgil Booked Fairytales, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Fiction or Nonfiction? Memoir or a lie? If anything, I wish it was a better tale.

Read banned books, THEY say. Sophia, you wouldn’t find the books I read in a school library. Hmm. Since I’ve been keeping up with my reading… Twenty-four books in 2019.

I got twenty-three in 2020. That was Braxton’s last full year. 2021, I read fifty-seven…

And how many of those were about grieving my boy? Six! Seven if you count “A Different Alchemy.” That was about a father who was mourning his son who was “unalive,” as THEY say these days. By his wife and “others,” no less. Should I read that again, my Lady?

That’s what brings me to you today. That and a Day Job I don’t want to talk or read about.

For the record, Sophia, today is Sunday, March 17, 2024.

Whenever I read my Day Job schedule, I feel… I have no words. Uh? I do, but none of them would be great. Truest sentences, maybe, but when has the truth been worth reading? With some these days, I ask.

Anyway, this is about yours truly. “Today is all about you.” Please, Sophia! There’s Virgil. I’m watching him sleep. But when I signed my name on the dotted line… Isn’t this what every fur baby dreams of? The end of the story. They go to a safe and happy home.

Virgil would have instead had me walk away rather than keep filling out forms and taking responsibility—or not, considering most of our days involve me lying in bed with a book. I did that with Braxton. But he was getting old. And me, sigh?

There’s also the fact that I was LESS lazy. I made it to the couch/loveseat 99% of the time, Sophia. And reading was easier. In 2022, I read 55 books. Nearly all of them were about grieving. The rest was Kindle taking money, giving Virgil his name, and upholding a Christmas tradition. This year and last are much the same, but add in my laziness.

And as far as fairies, witches, elves, demons, orcs, and more, sans their clothing, Sophia.

But what should I be reading? I finished “Backyard Dungeon 7,” so this whole week… There’s book eight. I won “Never Be Alone” and bought “Golden Son.” But there’s Braxton.

I’m grieving. There aren’t happy endings for “The Ones Who Live.” Virgil Booked Fairytales Braxton

1146 Days Without B III, Day 587 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 264 ~Will B Painful Virgil~

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“Cause all you ever say is “What’s the point?”” I could try that on the critics, but THEY never get me. B would. And even if he didn’t, I liked that look he’d give me. That “Seriously, Dad!” It pains me; I’ll never see it again. Will B Painful Virgil

Thursday, March 21, 2024

Tale 264 ~Will B Painful Virgil~

1145 Days Without B III, Day 586 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You know how my days are. Nine times out of ten, I’m bleeding and broken.

It’s one of the reasons I always washed my hands before touching you. Blood, sweat, and tears. You didn’t understand how the world is, Braxton. But you were prepared. Ready!

And I’m sure you know now from wherever you are. The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, Hell?

That’s one of the things that I have yet to hear from you. Where’d You Go? But you’ve been speaking to me more from books than whatever I have booming on the phone, B III.

It pains me to say I don’t remember all of it. And it’s only been a few hours, Golden Son.

B III, the second most painful thing this week (losing you is first). But saying what I need to Say. I mean, every single day.

I am. Braxton, I’m trying. But according to the critic and everybody else, I’m everything. Everything but understood. That could be why you’re trying to use the words in books instead of music. But I’ve been thinking about this sad song. Even by Julien Baker

Braxton, it was in that movie Spontaneous. It was the first film I remember watching after you were gone. Now, how could such a Black Comedy make me smile? Hmm.

Anyway, I figured it out. Everything is connected, B. You and me, always and forever.

In what I was reading this morning, Evey said she hadn’t felt pleasure. But the absence of pain. With missing you, it’s not the pain I want gone. I want it evened out over everything.

Which leads me to Virgil. Yes, he was mentioned, too. I keep telling you, Braxton. Like when The Man Comes Around, everything else does. Connections, communication, and this comedy are my existence without you. “Lost as Dante before Virgil.”

Keeping Virgil is spreading out my pain. The sadness and loneliness. Anything physical, I will bear myself. That’s why I freaked out when he was sick. That’s not his punishment.

But my happiness or any pleasure… I can make believe. Happiness doesn’t exist for me.

Pleasure, however, if defined as the absence of pain… That dream can come true, Braxton.

And you might be the only one who understands. Because I can hear the critic right now saying… “What?” Me talking Will B Painful Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 262 ~Love Lies, B…eing Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Breathe in and out. It’s a simple thing. But I got the paperwork from the vet’s proving how hard it is. I have more than enough from the Day Job, doctor’s office, and my dad. I hope to have some for a bigger family. Hmm. Love Lies, B…eing Virgil

Tuesday, March 19, 2024

Tale 262 ~Love Lies, B…eing Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… And it hurts sometimes. Good morning to you. But pain, fear, and missing my boy.

The things that get me up in the morning. What about love? It’s at the core of everything, my love. But I know what you’re asking. “What’s Love Got To Do With It?” With us?

Before we go any further, is that today’s tunage sent by my Braxton? Please! Ha-Ha! Neither is the zombie ambiance that, by the day, is more and more of a habit to listen to while writing. Why not listen to you, my beautiful wife? I love you. Those three words.

Always, always, I long to hear them but there is so much more. So much that it overflows, overwhelms, and overtakes me. And all I’m trying to do is keep breathing for a moment longer.

To hear my Braxton breathe.

But what about you, our children, Virgil, all the things I’ve built, all we’ve created? Dearest, “Hey Lover,” I’m being bombarded by the winds. Even now, they’re turning my pages… Not literally! I usually read on a tablet. There’s the sound of Haley playing, trying to blow away the sounds of the dead with her “Hurricane.” There’s in and out…

Breathing, my love, I wonder.

Why? So I hear, I love you. And I do, my love, always and forever. I will always mean it. But it is the same for my Braxton. It didn’t end when he lay in his bed and fell asleep.

Like father, like son, love.

I’ve been a fan of The Walking Dead forever. But when Braxton joined the Dead…

Where he goes, I will follow. But not this time, because there’s all this Air. How do THEY say, water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink? Air, Air, everywhere, and not a want to breathe. But because there’s love? To think those that I love would outnumber B.

And if I were to lose you or anyone, especially by my hand. Is that why I lie here, love?

Isn’t that what took my Braxton? The day he needed me, I wrapped him up in my arms and slept away the humiliation, heckles, and hatred of all those who would draw breath. In particular, myself, the man in the mirror? I miss my B III’s eyes looking towards me.

Yours? Love Lies, B…eing Virgil

1143 Days Without B III, Day 584 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 258 ~Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil~

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To be continued? In this existence. I’m tempted to say those are the worst words ever written. But no, those are, Goodbye, Braxton, I love you. Then, Good Morning V. Then, people at the Day Job. And these typing fingers. “Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil.”

Friday, March 15, 2024

Tale 258 ~Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or better yet, learn English. And how about Math? Or telling time. Friday, March 8, 2024

And here we are again. First, I should let you know that Virgil is feeling better… Don’t count your chickens, right? But he’s stopped “being sick.” Only I never learn. I shared some fries with him. And considering what happened at McDonald’s. Be very afraid.

Only not of the storm outside. I can’t believe I was out there and all for a fish meal. Hmm.

This morning, you had to read all about my anger. But this afternoon, there’s fear.

Inevitable, right? Like all the mistakes I make. For example, the worst pain I’ve felt.

Watching my son die is worse than anything I’ve ever written. My Braxton is dead. Sophia, the next thing would be waking up every day. “Throw The Covers” over me.

After that? You can see what I’m doing now: writing about a future I don’t want to see. But, being honest, I am sitting in this bed waiting to die. And it hurts. Oh, how it hurts, Sophia! One more day to read and write about how much of a failure this existence has become.

Sophia, sigh, I can’t tell you what book I’m wasting my time with next. Whatever.

Learning isn’t my highest priority because every word and number makes me feel even worse about myself. Why do you think I read so much about grieving fur babies, Sophia? I get to cry, and books in the HaremLit genre get other bodily fluids out of me. I know, gross! And again, Math books… suffering. But at least I get to cry some more today.

Virgil’s not dying. But what about that trip to the groomers that I promised him?

Breaking another promise, like when I promised to save Braxton’s life. Even before that. I said that writing would be our future. And I might have time, checking my schedule…

But it’s too late for B now. And even if I wrote the best book, what would it be for? So that I could afford to pay sixteen dollars for a fish sandwich. Instead of eight and being humiliated by some McDonald’s cashier. That’s it, Lady Sophia. The End, maybe.

Because to be continued, the anger, humiliation, loss, and everything that comes with writing this existence! Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil

1139 Days Without B III, Day 580 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 257 ~Willie B Shopping, Virgil~

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What did it cost you? Everything. Holding back anger and being indifferent to the needs of my boy. As I was trying to make pennies for us. When B was trying to tell me. Dog is trying to tell me something. We need stuff! No! Willie B Shopping, Virgil

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Tale 257 ~Willie B Shopping, Virgil~

1138 Days Without B III, Day 579 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I made it to the Dining Room table. But to you, that was everywhere, right?

And speaking of anywhere and everywhere, I should be in your room/library as if I needed another book. They aren’t helping me. But I did finish another on Pet Loss.

Braxton, I may have it wrong. You were a pet until the day I yelled, “B, get in the car!” After that, you were many things—a fur baby of many hats. But not really. If it wasn’t your collar, you weren’t wearing it. Well, there were a few bandannas from PetSmart. Ha-Ha! You were getting too old to fight off the groomers or take any of the vet’s fingers…

Happy Memories! And you know I’m never happy, Braxton. But as long as you were… Are wherever you are right now. I wish I knew.

On the nightstand? I’ve been thinking a lot about getting something different. A new box, urn, or some sort of vessel. I’ve never been angry at you for leaving me. I would have given everything to save you. “Am I Wrong?” Am I lying?” Considering how long you’ve been gone, Braxton. It’s been four tax refunds. And I’m sitting here quibbling about $785.00. For what? Especially with how sick Virgil was yesterday. Go to Banfield?

Wouldn’t you let me know if Virgil was that far gone? He got sick all over the carpet twice, B. And once in your room. But I’ve kept Virgil close and increased his outside time.

What else does Virgil need? “What About the Rest of Us?” I don’t know, Braxton.

But if something happens to him, I’m sure I’ll be singing to myself, “That’s How You Know,” you MESSED up. Do you remember how I would sing to you, Braxton? Not only when you were sick. But every day I wasn’t in a mood. You were my cuddly comfort, B.

I’ve been thinking about buying three black dog toys for the years you’ve been gone. But I also have to find plenty of cleaning supplies for Virgil. Would getting him cleaned up help him? And between paying your Grandma and your grandad wanting me to decorate, it would be your room. So I could stay closer to Virgil. But to spend that kind of money…

My heart’s broken, head, bank account… Willie B Shopping, Virgil.

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 255 ~Spell Manhood, B, V~

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Don’t crying to your Mama. Cause you’re on your own in the real world. I swear I hear that song every day at the Day Job. And here I am, nearly 40 and ready to text mine because… You wouldn’t believe it. Where’s my pride or mind? Spell Manhood, B, V.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Tale 255 ~Spell Manhood, B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… My spelling could be called into question. My courage, too. Even this very existence, love.

But my love for you should never be in doubt despite everything. I’ll even include the loss of my son. I love you. That is the correct answer. And yet, I remain full of questions.

Since yesterday? Try, 1136 days ago. But Monday was a particularly hard one. And you know what I do with a hard one. Eww! Well, no! You like my sense of humor. And what was it that Marilyn Monroe said? If you make a woman laugh and all that. My love, I’m trying to figure out how to provide. Please! Isn’t that solved, considering billions?

Existing isn’t the problem. Living is. “We’re the ones who live.” Of course, I would be one to quote “The Walking Dead.” A dead man.

And what does that make you? My Sabriel, my Michonne, one of Jacob’s, Grayson’s, or Eddie’s girls. I swear! For my love of pop culture. I started my day reading “Backyard Dungeon 7.” Because I don’t love what’s going on outside in our backyard. Braxton?

Yeah, my firstborn would have something to “bark” about that. And what about the front…

That’s what I’ve been thinking about since yesterday. Besides Braxton, wondering where my bravery is and giving into, boo… I mean Cantaloupes. Critics and censorship can be as spoiled as our children, if not worse. But who am I to talk? Husband, Father, Owner, Man…

A Monster, Ahh! My Love…

As the song goes, “I wanna be your man.” Ha-Ha. But what Braxton sent today…

My son tried. “God” knows he tried. All the moments when I thought I had become a man. I didn’t chase those moments… necessarily. But nevertheless, they came, my love.

The first time a girl let me… I thought, yeah, I’m a man. No! It meant I officially like girls.

What about the first time I got into a fight? I’ve never been to war. But the mere act of breathing for me… Not that I mean to offend fighters, warriors, or soldiers. But my manhood? War never changes. The fight never ends. Yet I look out the window and… I want to call my Ma. Well, text because I am without courage. And manhood.

There’s you, our children, Braxton, Virgil. Spell Manhood, B, V

1136 Days Without B III, Day 577 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 251 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Rager~

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Like father like son… I’m not calling 2V that. But I wanted to vomit on the notice over the time clock. And V went and vomited on the bed. Hate, like Stupidity, is an illness. I won’t pass that to V. But drowning in anger? Braxton and Virgil’s Rager.

Friday, March 8, 2024

Tale 251 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Rager~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or should I be more like the Day Job, stating rules and facts? Reading those Sophia…

It makes me feel more gross, humiliated, and angry than cleaning up after Virgil today. And for the record, I’m not mad at Virgil. But more at myself. It’s like that time I had that Buffalo Chicken Pizza from Pizza Hut. Now, that was sickening. Should I write a review?

If only there were time. How about being in the mood? There’s also the fact that I’m such a lazy… Well, you know. I’m mad at the critic, too. You heard the song Braxton sent.

“Hells Bells.” But upon reading about it, I could be wrong. Or crazy? Inevitable, right?

Because, As I’ve said on numerous occasions. I will never find Acceptance in B’s passing. So anger, once again, finding its way into my grief…

At least it’s keeping the embarrassment to a minimum. And the fact that I hear Virgil chowing down in Braxton’s room means he has no plans to join my “Lost Boy” anytime soon. But still? You remember I hid my anger from Braxton. And now Virgil is getting all sick. Would it help if I talked to Virgil about it? Better yet, don’t share chicken.

Madness, Lady Sophia. What was I thinking? It’s like me drinking alcohol. It’s good, but… Well, you can ask Braxton’s Aunt. But at least I kept all the gross stuff in until she left. Thankfully

Speaking of gross things, there is still my rage. It’s always me and the Day Job, Lady Sophia. STUPIDITY, FEAR… where does it all go?

I finished reading “Backyard Dungeon 6” this morning. But no, I won’t give you a review on that either. But now I need a new book—as if I haven’t bought several already, Sophia. Sigh.

My reading history… Like regular history isn’t supposed to be all sunshine and lollipops. And reading about a “Ray of Sunshine” that has been lost. And saying, “She’s a Ray of Sunshine” in all the other books. For the critic: reading about dogs and girls…

Sophia, I need to read books on rage. While talking to you, I even looked up one of those rage rooms. I need somewhere to put all of my wrath. Because wanting pain, hurt, and…

It’s making me sick. No Fun! Braxton and Virgil’s Rager

1132 Days Without B III, Day 573 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 250 ~B A Ruler Virgil~

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Braxton and I were/are just alike. We both want to run things. And we were both mistaken by the people who thought they were better than us. Virgil and I are alike. We both have no idea what we’re doing and try to avoid trouble. B A Ruler Virgil

Thursday, March 7, 2024

Tale 250 ~B A Ruler Virgil~

1131 Days Without B III, Day 572 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were always thinking about my days. These last three… The Second time I’m crying…

I can laugh too when I remember one of the rules you gave me. Or was it more advice, B?

The best legs, breasts, and thighs come in a bucket of chicken.
Braxton Barks Bradford

I told myself I needed to start asking for your advice more often. But we’ll get to that B III.

Do you remember the four rules I gave you while you were here? There was a fifth one after we had “The Talk” about you and your Aunt Carolina or Augusta, wherever she is now. But there was, don’t go #2 in the house, don’t steal, and respond whenever I call. Braxton, the oldest, was don’t bite the hand that feeds you. You’re a Smooth Criminal. Braxton, your Daddy’s not.

That’s what brings me to you now. Uh, every Thursday. Every day, with today being Wednesday, March 6, 2024. I’m still reeling from the Day Job. And a part of me doesn’t want to talk about this. But I would. But my indifference led to our… separation, B III. Death…

I continue to think of the critic and the Day Job. Confusion, Madness, and Humiliation.

So, as I told Inspector Echo this morning, at the Day Job, a new rule appeared, much like the one about “my” wearing earbuds, or how I wrote to that coworker or the one about wearing a jacket around my waist. Only this new rule was about food, Little B.

Already, I can hear your voice, Braxton. You and food…

QUIT! Isn’t that right, Braxton?

But that was both of us every day. You never got to see my Day Job. Can you smell it? Eww! That’s the reason I washed my hands before holding you. That place is gross!

Anyway, I’m pretty gross. That’s why I’m not mad at the rule—because I’m guilty. It’s this: the necessity, implementation, and humiliation—everything that comes with the rule, B. Your Daddy’s foolish pride, you know.

Things would have been so much simpler if I had listened to you, Braxton Barks.

Inevitable. I could exist or rather live as you would want. I could quit. And there is always writing, which was our path out, Braxton. If I’d let you run things. Like getting steak for dinner? B A Ruler Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad