Gospel 352 ~Good And B Days~

I’ve never been one for holidays. I hate my birthday, I’m sure I forgot my “father’s” this week and the last holiday Braxton, and I could have had… Hell, I didn’t even buy him another plushy. “Good And B Days,” good on Juneteenth, but where’s B again

Friday, June 18, 2021

Gospel 352 ~Good And B Days~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and there’s plenty I want to do. Bring Braxton back, buy an island, make a holiday.

I should say something about Juneteenth. Could I get the COVID vaccine today to celebrate freedom or Saturday, hmm? Um, yep, I woke up late again today but then again, so did Texas. Am I cracking jokes, Lady Sophia? Is today awfully good, awesomely bad? Any day B had food in his mouth was good for him; Thanksgiving, Christmas, B-Day. Let’s start with Thanksgiving, which to him was his Christmas. My Ma always sends something over, which would mean plenty of sharing. Now, aren’t I terrible because I did to Braxton what SOME did to the Native Americans? One good meal, a disease, and a trail of tears ever since. Have I offended you yet? To think history was once my favorite subject Lady Sophia.

Like having Christmas Brunch with my Olds, of course, that was when B III and I still lived with them. When we “moved out,” most holidays became a distant memory. Can I use not giving Braxton something else to pee on as an excuse? I didn’t get him a gift. Sophia, how many times have I told that story of our last Christmas? We spent it here, no Santa, no sleigh, a relatively Silent Night. It wouldn’t be if we were ever invited to brunch again, or do I have that wrong? We would be deaf by the end as he barked up a storm. What I wouldn’t give to hear that bark again. It’s July, but I’ll feel about Christmas as Sheldon Cooper does.

Or how about Leonard on his birthday? You know how I feel about my “Emergence Day.” Braxton and I never made a big deal out of my Emergence or his Birth. I don’t even remember celebrating it. Not until it was only Braxton and me, leading to a problem. Okay, so I’m a broken record, but we never knew the exact day. Well, our lonesome vet appointments began in February. I know on the fifteenth that’s half-price chocolate day and a cleaning nightmare. I didn’t have a lover on Valentine’s, so the thirteenth was practical, his birthday. Braxton has refused to eat twice in his life. So Braxton overate on his birthday once. Then on the last days before his death. Good And B Days.

138 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 345 ~Good Morning B, Sorry~

Last week I talked about “sleepytime,” and this one, I’m still as lazy. Only more to the point of what it was/is like to wake up with somebody that loves you. Other than Braxton, I can’t say I have much experience. Good Morning B, Sorry, but rest now

Friday, June 11, 2021

Gospel 345 ~Good Morning B, Sorry~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how’s that for waking up with gratitude. I suppose I’m grateful for sleeping even more.

As always, a note that I’m not suicidal, but if I could sleep forever… Again I woke up at 4:00 AM, said my stomach hurts, and fell back asleep. I didn’t have anything pressing, hmm. Braxton wasn’t here to step on my face. His fur wasn’t all over the place. I’m sure he would have found something to bark at by now. I’d take those mornings over this, I know. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate them more. Inspector Echo is one to hear my confessions. Braxton is somewhere resting upon the perfect comfy spot that he’s still digging into, bet. The last day he was with me, he was lying beside me, but we’ll get to that. Oh great, now my tears have found comfort.

I would tell B III I was sorry before I even told him good morning. Then, of course, I’d follow with another apology. Sorry for waking him up, a morning with meds, then yep, sorry B, but keeping you alive…

On my off days, he would be the one waking me up for his morning walks. I was the lazy one, and he would jump around until I was ready to go. It’s a toss-up to eat or walk. There were, of course, those nights when I was writing, thinking, “I’m Gonna Be Somebody.” I already was Lady Sophia. I am B III’s Daddy, but those were late bedtimes. If I had done something, it would have been worth it, but here’s a question. Where am I this gray morning?

Like Friday, January 29, 2021, I’m sitting in bed reviewing a story, only it happens to be Braxton’s now. Gospel 212 On The “Will” Succubus… what the fuck, ignorance, insanity. At the same time, I was petting Braxton, telling him I was sorry he felt sick. I called Braxton’s vet after four hard days at the Day Job, never once thinking about THE END. Lying in his own bed that Sunday as I held him, seeing his little brown eyes fight for life. I’m sorry, it’s okay, you can rest, the words flowed from me. I wish I had told him, Sleepytime, Night, Night Braxton, Sweet Dreams. But, I do now, knowing that as the alarm rings, I’ll walk downstairs saying Good Morning B, Sorry.

131 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 338 ~B The Dream Within~

I’d sing to B plenty but a lullaby before “sleepytime.” He was always busy guarding the house, protecting me in my laziness, or stuffing his face. Sleepytime was the only time we dreamt together. Then one Wednesday afternoon… B The Dream Within.

Friday, June 4, 2021

Gospel 338 ~B The Dream Within~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But instead of dreaming about those billions, new books, or my boy, last night was terrible.

Might I write out some of my dreams tomorrow? Today, of course, being Day 124 is all about Braxton’s dreams. If my pictures are any indication, I watched B III sleep a lot. It’s the least I could do as he did the same for me when I would come from the Day Job. No wonder I’m so exhausted. Besides, you know, manual labor. I don’t have anyone watching my back anymore, so I have to be on guard. When I was awake, it was my turn; no words necessary, yet I still ask the question. What are you dreaming, Little B? Vittles mostly? Lady Sophia, you don’t know how badly I want to believe that. He had his good dreams but also some nightmares.

As I said before, I could tell you about my nightmare. Usually, I only sleep that of the dead. Hell, at least Braxton and I could be together, other dreams I’ve written down before. Having escaped work yesterday, I wish I would have slept more. To see B on duty, I’ll always miss him on his perch. There were the days he would lie out in the sun as I worked downstairs. I continue to carry his pillow and place it under the table. Yet today, I’m working on the couch, partly because my shoulder hurts and after my betrayal. Now I used to think B III was pretty annoying when he woke me up, but you know what? If anything, he stopped my nightmares.

Most of them appear in the daylight now. The first is always a world without my son. There is no waking up from this but only a feeling against my ankles; an imagined bark echoed. You know when everybody wants me to shut up, there’s this one like yesterday that asks. So where’s that little puppy of yours? Braxton passed away; beats I’m a murderer. Cause what am I now? I can’t say I’m a monk anymore after 161 Days. Once again, my attempt at asexuality started before Braxton’s death. I don’t deserve to feel good, and even after the moment it happened, “Stuff And Thangs.” There was my shame. I hope Braxton was resting and not watching his Dad fall. B The Dream Within

124 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 331 ~B In Present Tense~

Boys and their toys; B was never a toy and usually not a dog. He is my son, and the things he liked most he could eat. He had lots of toys, though, and I told myself after Christmas, I’ll make it up to you when you’re 16 but then… B In Present Tense.

Friday, May 28, 2021

Gospel 331 ~B In Present Tense~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would buy Braxton a ton of toys. A swimming pool full of fries

Before that, there was Blue. Well, we never gave the big blue dog a name, but he was Braxton’s fifth friend. I suppose, like any father, I wanted to teach my son to fight. Who am I kidding, right? I saw a big dog a few days ago and spent another minute in the car. B III made me brave, but I’m also a black man living in America. After a while, it wasn’t safe to walk with Lucille, a plastic bat, or even a slightly skinny stick to protect us. I don’t mean to sound “political.” Long story short, I saved us from pets but B. That boy was my salvation from people. So we sat there wrestling; he’s undefeated against the Blue dog.

Braxton grew up as growing boys do. I never had the heart to get him neutered. Another part of my Bargaining (Five Stages of Grief). If I had done so, perhaps he would still be alive today. Hell, sometimes I was, as the song goes, “a motherfuckin’ P-I-M-P,” for B. Plenty of people wanted him to breed. A Pure Blood Deer Head Chihuahua, in case you’re wondering why I’m such a dog snob now. If I had to do it all over again, I would have liked to meet B’s kids like I wanted him to love mine. He only had a stick of TNT. “I’m not crazy or anything,” it was a plush toy he had for his Stuff and Thangs. Indiana Gone saw

She also saw B III in love with his favorite toy, a red monster hairdryer plushy she gave him. It was his favorite toy in the whole wide world. He could smell her on it, and every so often, I get a whiff of him. Of all the toys in the world, it was the one I placed beside him. Now I’m going to cry again, remembering him lying in his bed, my arms around him. There was my black hoodie lying in his bed and that toy. If he had a choice, the choice I took from him, B would have given the toy to me for my comfort. He knew before I did.

No toy for Christmas or Birthday… B In Present Tense

117 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 324 ~Go To Bed B~

Right now, I want to go back to sleep and see if I can find Braxton. Hell, John Wick got another dog, and I dreamt I was Mr. Wick last night. It’s better than the dreams of my actual crime, and B III can’t wake me up anymore. “Go To Bed B.”

Friday, May 21, 2021

Gospel 324 ~Go To Bed B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can sleep without the money. Dare I say without the girl? But there’s Braxton.

Besides my tattoo, I’ve been thinking about getting one of those “Cuddle Clones.” Still, I haven’t been able to decide between B III sleeping or being awake. Braxton slept well. Okay, so that’s something you tell a baby, “oh, you’re such a good sleeper.” I’ve told the story of Braxton being my “pancake” and curling up in my lap as I sat working on stories. The Wednesday before he died, he didn’t take his post at the corner of my bed after I got back. He didn’t crawl on my legs, looking towards the door. B cried and my response. Father of the year says, “Go To Bed B,” like he hadn’t been sleeping all day. Still, he crawled under my arm, staying beside me.

There will always be the story of when I thought I left him outside all night. Of course, I didn’t. Only I was out running around in the morning while Braxton slept in his house. Any day when I was leaving, he would formulate a plot to get me to stay. He knew I wouldn’t leave him inside the bedroom. Denial, it seems, moving his bed and the dog gate. With the Day Job, Braxton gave up. It was too early even for him, or he knew I had made my choice like “Six: The Mark Unleashed.” The last free choice, the wrong choice Sophia. Yes, I’m still freaking out about the COVID-19 Vaccine. I’m not a man of faith; I deserve Hell… I’m there.

“I’d tell you to go to Hell, but I think you’re already there.” Jack Valentine

Because telling Braxton, he could rest either was an act of mercy or a fucking crime. I’ll tell the story of when I placed his water next to him. Braxton walked to its usual place. When he was dying, he wouldn’t sleep in the car. Braxton wouldn’t even lie down, not my son. Braxton fought for every single second of his life and what he wanted was to come home. Sometimes I’ll move his favorite toy to his spot on the bed, to the couch. I’ll keep it on my lap. Braxton was preparing me for “Times Like These.” I dreamt I was John Wick and Braxton was nowhere to be found. I slept longer, hoping when I woke… “Life finds a way;” “stuff and thangs.” Go To Bed B.

110 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

Instead of looking for the perfect woman, the goddess, I’d like to think of a girl that would love Braxton as much as I do. I’m already crying enough for two, so let some woman kick my ass for what happened to him. “Ask Your Mother B.”

Friday, May 14, 2021

Gospel 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it’s because I’m “creative,” or I like to think. Thinking about who Braxton’s Mom is.

She would have to be an early riser. I know I haven’t been the past few days. It’s going 8:30 AM about, which is super late for me. If there’s light in the sky, we walk him and me. Hell, I couldn’t even open the back gate a few days ago. It’s not me being sad, just the rain, hmm. Braxton would want her to be a better cook, not that he ever complained about mine. I can’t help wondering did all those McDonald’s fries have something to do with his passing. They last forever, you know. With all the food both B III and I shared, I killed him. Once again, I will never let go of that point. Then again, Mom blames herself.

Not that I would want Braxton’s Mom doing that. No, I am guilty. If she wants to blame me… It would be karma catching up to me. My Ma never blamed my “Father” for anything, and see how I feel about that man? To make B think the same of me, oh, that’s a crime, yep. On the other side of the equation, she’s not one of those “wait till your father gets home” types. Shall I imagine such love like my wife being here, and B runs from her to greet me? He chose me over everyone. He loves our kids, loves his Mom, but it’s Dad. I’m back. It took his death to turn me away from boobs, but my life… his world.

Only one woman outside the family held his sway, and that’s my second best friend. I’ve said before how she had to let him walk all over her, sharing four months of food and treats. There was a cake for his birthday and presents. Braxton’s party was an incredible time. His last days though… no Braxton, I’ll carry you, I’ll get you more water, I’ll help you. If any mother could do better, I would welcome that rather than him dying in my arms ever. Ask your Mom to save you even if you hate me for the rest of your life, son. Men save gods all the time; that’s why they’re not gods. Dog spelled backward, and Mother is God. Ask Your Mother B.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 310 ~Will Of The B-Cells~

To think that the moment of Braxton’s passing, “home” was the last place that I wanted to be. THEY say that home is where the heart is but with him being gone… It’s at least where I can say “whatever,” in peace. Will Of The B-Cells, no cure or escape

Friday, May 7, 2021

Gospel 310 ~Will Of The B-Cells~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, only I wish I could have bought Braxton that big house I promised. A yard, family…

I don’t know if you would consider Braxton lucky or like some military kid. Why does love always feel like a battlefield, as the song goes? Whether it be the two “homes” we had with my Olds and then this place, they did pay for; truth. My family’s home Sophia… Whatever do I call it now? Fuck you, ASM. My apologies Lady Sophia but whenever I say “whatever,” I’m set off by the ASM, and I won’t have him tell me how to speak again ever. Not that I’m doing much talking because I can’t even pretend that Braxton is listening anymore. Dammit, I should be ashamed of what I’ve let happen to B III’s home. I had an ant invasion; the backyard is wild. There is such filth everywhere.

Should I burst out with my best rendition of Michael Jackson’s Earth Song? Again I am sorry, Lady Sophia. I want to tell “Happy” stories of Braxton and me, but my hate has tainted everything. I would hold Braxton at night, and he was keeping my heart inside me, yeah. Now my heart died in a cage, and this broken man is all that remains. He didn’t look at this place as a Hell, a prison, or a trap. In these walls, he was safe with his Daddy despite everything. What is this? The third time I’m crying today because of those little eyes, hmm. The look that says, “Daddy can we go home?” It’s what he wanted, I keep telling myself, now smaller boxes.

There’s my urn pendant, the box that remains on my nightstand. The frame that shows our lives together. Please let Braxton be running along the Rainbow Bridge. My Braxton could be guarding the gates of Heaven or Hell. How about Braxton finding the eternal comfy spot. All it took was something inside him, killing him for five days, causing his chronic renal failure. I know it takes longer than that, but then there was the hatred that surrounded me. Love B shed and shared like so many hairs, Braxton saying, I will try to fix you. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t visit me. He can’t stand to see his Daddy like this, and I don’t blame him. This was his home, Will Of The B-Cells.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 303 ~Hello, Hello, Monsieur B~

Please say Hello to me… that’s after having such a nice dream. I’d forget it all if B III woke me up by running over my face, asking me for treats, or better if I had known something was wrong with him and been his Dad. Hello, Hello, Monsieur B.

Friday, April 30, 2021

Gospel 303 ~Hello, Hello, Monsieur B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would wave goodbye to all of it just to say, Just Me, Baby B.

Sometimes I’ll say Good Morning Braxton when I walk into his room. The two of us weren’t AM people at all, Ha. There was a time when he would run over my head, eager to go out. Back with my Olds, it would be him barking. Then there’s “Medicine Time.” I’ve been thinking a lot about what THEY call The Golden Rule. I treat others how I would like to be treated. All I want in my life nowadays is peace and quiet. One more reason B III was perfect, we didn’t have to talk… we walked, and that’s how we knew we were ok. People think they are entitled to my voice… fuck people, especially the ASM. Braxton deserved the best version of me.

Now I shouldn’t say all people. Indiana Gone is my second best friend. I worry about M Anime. I still think about Cherry, Okay, even MILF Dos from time to time. But at the end of the day with Braxton, no matter what, I was always me. I got to say hello to myself finally. I could repeat the same stories about Braxton arriving in a monster’s hands. The time I caught him eating my breakfast. How about when he chose me as he jumped into the car? If I kept but one promise to my son, it was this. When I would leave, I told him I’ll be back. Do I look like The Terminator? Better you don’t answer that, my future being uncertain.

My favorite part of the day was crawling up the steps and seeing him. I would pet his head, hug him, let him jump all around, and then I’d ask, “you want to go outside?” Give me that moment forever. The Stairway to Heaven or The Rainbow Bridge, Braxton awaits. So here come the waterworks… Braxton’s last day and I dared to say Good Morning. The hello I gave him after the vet gave me the final prognosis on him, and I held him like we hadn’t seen each other in forever. I can even smell him. The brief moment after his death when the storm passed, there was such sunlight, Just Me, Baby B.

I’ve said hello in many ways. Hello, Hello, Monsieur B

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 296 ~The Battling Barker Braxton~

His bark is worse than his bite… God, how I miss that bark. Braxton may not have liked a bunch of people; I can count them up on one hand. He loved me, and the people that do are far less. B fought for me until the end. “The Battling Barker Braxton.”

Friday, April 23, 2021

Gospel 296 ~The Battling Barker Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I better be as Braxton can’t protect me from what has happened, will or won’t.

Back in B.B. (Before Braxton), when I was in high school, I would “pray” to have hell, someone to pray to at all. A friend to stand with me… though even with B III, I never got around to getting him registered or whatever. Fuck You ASM, I said WHATEVER!!! Pardon me, My Lady, anyway Braxton should have been an Emotional Support Animal. As the song goes, “so take a look at me now,” I’m going crazy. Although that could be the idea of a fight. I’m saying I won’t say YES, I won’t kowtow, back down, hit the ground. If I do, that overgrown, meathead, jock asshole will have to put me there, I swear. However, my first mistake was burying my best friend.

Well, no, B III is sitting on my nightstand, but you know what I mean. Speaking of black men that are threats to my safety, sanity, and self-worth, my “father.” I fought him once and lost but Braxton. My prince knowing, my dude’s in distress, jumping between us, my boy. He got kicked four feet high by my “father” into a wooden door. Braxton and I have shed the same blood in the same mud or across a kitchen floor, at least. Time to get my cry in on this Saturday, April 17. Braxton is forever my son, my brother, and my best friend. He showed such forgiveness, but when my “father” came by without me here, he sat in his bed very scared, waiting.

What I might miss the most as I sit here in bed is where he would be when I slept. I would wake up to see him on the foot of the bed on the corner, staring at the door. As I got going, he would come over, and after making sure I was okay, he would sleep; Daddy’s shift. As I confessed at some point, I’ve never woken up to a girl in the bed. Not in this house. The way Braxton and I would sleep back to back. How he’d guard the gate when we were at my Olds barking up a storm. “Remember who the real enemy is.” Braxton wouldn’t care if I was a hero or villain. The Battling Bard Braxton.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 289 ~B Gets The Girl~

“Tale As Old As Time Song As Old As Rhyme…” maybe not; it’s only been seventy-five days. I lost the “young” prince Braxton. I’d give the kingdom to have him back. Now I’m screaming at a lady yesterday for invading my space. B Gets The Girl.

Friday, April 16, 2021

Gospel 289 ~B Gets The Girl~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but instead of wanting to be the Prince, I’ll listen to B and be the Beast.

Now make no mistake, Braxton was a prince. Humans to dogs are owners, masters, kings, even gods but also best friends. With all the regrets of how I was nowhere near the best daddy to him. I am saddened by the fact that Braxton never made any doggy friends ever. Her name was Greta. I can’t remember what kind of dog she was, only that she and B were about the same height. We met her when we lived with my Olds (B III’s grandparents). I’d take him around the block, um, when it was “safer” being a black man.
Sorry, I don’t mean to get awfully political today. Anyway, so Greta would come up to say hello, and what do you think he did?

Braxton might not have been one with the furry chicks but my type of girls. I shouldn’t say that either; otherwise, she and I would have been together. For now, she remains my second BFF. I often said that the first girl that wins B’s heart I’d marry. Sorry, Braxton. Her name is Indiana Gone (not a fact, you know). While I was busy getting all handsy with the maid, B could not keep his paws off Indiana Gone. I’m sure I’ve told this story before how he hated her guts at first but like father like son. B Squared was one for her Yabbos. So here I am explaining to my son that he has to be a gentleman. Nope, he was a beast.

Only I would not let him, as Trevor Philips put it, “rut like beasts.” I swear, sometimes I felt like a pimp, people bugging us, wanting to buy him, and talking about breeding. The lowest offer for Braxton was $500.00, the highest $900. I should have gotten him a sister. Do you want to hear a confession? I’ve never got some “cuddy” in this house; my hand to God truth. We’re talking well… years. Now B Squared for all his barking, chasing, and then running from girls. Triple B was a virgin, and I didn’t have the heart to neuter. I’m continuing to line up regrets, no playmates, taking better care, and he never got to meet my new family.

Heaven… B Gets The Girl

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will