Tag: Observations

Tale 347 ~Codes B And V~

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This is no game; this is no drill. Battle Stations! Um, Abandon Ship… from my brief stint in the Navy. I’ve cried so many tears. Sweated bullets. And let’s not talk about other bodily fluids. I’m supposed to exist in “this.” But no Codes B And V

Wednesday, June 12, 2024

Tale 347 ~Codes B And V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Have I spent too much money… AGAIN! Last time I checked, Virgil is alive and “physically” well. Mentally?

Well, here on this Wednesday, June 5, 2024… V’s probably sitting on the stairs, too scared to come down. So was Braxton on that Sunday, January 31, 2021. Even if he had wanted to, which he didn’t. My son was way too sick. Dying actually. A red alert, dear Echo.

Fears like losing another fur buddy have me like Tris from Divergent. Fear keeps me up longer than any energy drink. And when Braxton was here, I could face it head-on. I found courage for my son because of my son. Someone asked, If you wanted to share your soulmate pet’s life story and you only had six words, what would they be?” My answer:

“You and me, against the world.” A father and son.

“Fear doesn’t shut you down; it wakes you up.” Divergent

Should it worry me that I’ve written two full-blown novels for Braxton? And I’m doing nothing with them, Inspector? But six little words on the fly fit me and B III easily. Shame on me.

What about the fact that 2V has been here for 669 days? And he and I still haven’t bonded. That’s a cause for a red alert if I’ve ever heard one. General Quarters, Battle Stations!

Virgil and I are pretty decent. I should save that for my Old Man. Did I call him yet? Hmm.

There’s the alarm for when I go to the Day Job. Humiliations Galore! Inspector Echo.

Whenever the next “tragedy” strikes. As in Virgil making a mess. To the fence falling. What about DISH Network, Inspector?

I swear! I will stop talking about that because what was I watching anyway? Inspector, what have I been watching for the past few minutes? It should be a red flag or alert that I’m always angry, afraid, and amorous at any given point and time. And as far as being “amorous…” A safe word? I need some code words. Or I should stop talking because I’m the only one ever in trouble. Critical writing, Inspector. The sounds of silence.

Only when I’m in the duvet, dead, or being disgusting. And when I’m disgusting Echo. Now that’s an alert I can do without when I’m about to… well, Inspector… Eww!

Deciding how to exist was easier once. But Red Alert… no Codes B And V

1228 Days Without B III, Day 669 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 340 ~Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated~

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Wake Up! Yes, I hate bright lights. Yes, I would rather bask in the darkness than see in the light of day I’ve wasted 39 years. Yes, people are horrible. But try waking up every morning to… Sigh… “Humiliations Galore.” Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated

Wednesday, June 5, 2024

Tale 340 ~Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Losing Braxton, waking up before and after losing Braxton. There’s also taking off my pants, peeking at Yabbos.

The usual morning. However, I haven’t looked in the mirror yet, which is a blessing.

Yesterday, I got caught up in a motivational speech. It said something to the tune of 90% of success in life… or was it 80%? Anyway, 90% is just showing up. And the other 10% to 20% is, what for. Now say it with me, Inspector Echo. AHEM, Humiliations Galore!

Inspector, I wondered as I waited for Virgil to do his business this morning. He’s been going in the house, so why bother sitting here for twenty minutes? Am I trying to teach him at all? He looks at me as though he expects something. Hopefully, it’s not what I did to Braxton on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Uh, Euthanasia?

You’ll have to forgive me, Inspector. Between reading another fur buddy book, “The Survival Guide to Pet Loss.” And now having another E for “E-Day.” Euthanasia, in addition to Emergence, Existence, and Extinction. I don’t want to be FORTY, Inspector.

And I won’t be for a while yet… if ever. But it’s approaching. And that is what brings me to you today. As I’ve been saying for a few days. I’m not complaining. But I’m not as horrible as Tucker Carlson when just asking questions. Echo, I’m observing and explaining.

Every morning, I wake up saying I’m a sinner. But that’s not because of a religious doctrine, my friend. I say it because I know the “man” that I am. It ain’t a good one.

Braxton and Virgil, though… my boys. Why should they share my fear, failure, and fire?

Braxton was humiliated when my Old Man kicked him four feet high into a door. And then, when he ran to me. His tail was between his legs. And yet he turned and barked defiantly as I held a knife between us and my approaching Old Man. My son B III was/is a brave boy and the best “man” I’ve known. Even to the end, when he was dying, he was humiliated he couldn’t stay.

Virgil might not want to. His humiliation lies in the fact he can’t figure me out. I don’t know how to love him. That’s the both of us. But when I wake up, Inspector, I know. Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated

1221 Days Without B III, Day 662 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will