Sunday, February 8, 2009


The summer between my Freshman and Sophomore years of high school we bought Rusty. She was a beautiful Irish Setter and 6 months old. There were a few signs that maybe this wasn't the best idea.
For one, when we went into a little room the meet the dog, she was literally bouncing off the walls. She ran from one wall to the other jumping off of them. We thought it was cute...until she did it in our house.
The second clue was when the pet shop shut down a few days after we bought her. I hope that was just a coincidence.
Then she threw up in the car on the way home.
We had a cook out that evening and she stole the hot dog right out of my hand.

I joke, but Rusty was lovable. Those huge brown eyes looking up at you with her head on your lap. All she wanted was a little attention. I also feel good about buying her because they were going to put her down soon (she was 6 months old already).

We had to put Rusty down about 4 years ago due to cancer. She was in a lot of pain. There is one story that sticks out in my mind with her and that is the day I murdered the baby bird. Bird slaughter!

My mom had a hanging plant on her back porch and you know how birds love to nest in those. I loved to step up on the wall to check on the eggs' progress. I did this just about everyday. One day I stepped up, looked in and all the baby birds jumped out. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I had Rusty out with me and she grabbed one and only held it in her mouth.

The mother bird came flying over and if I were capable of understanding the language of bird I'm sure it would have been close to the vocabulary of a sailor. Her panic brought many birds from the neighborhood over to 'yell' at me too. There were robins, blue birds, cardinals, all there looking at me. Accusing me of murder. I wanted to cry. I felt so horrible. Aren't these the same birds that fight - they came together to yell at me.

Rusty killed the baby bird. She didn't mean to. It wasn't like she bit the poor thing, she held it in her mouth and it suffocated. In any case the blame is all mine. I should have kept her in the house while I looked. It's not her fault, she was a bird dog.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Would you Listen to Me Already?

A while ago I noticed that I had a loose tooth. You know how annoying that can be. I kept nudging it with my tongue until I made it worse, and then finally FELL OUT! Naturally, I poked at my other teeth with my tongue and they were loose too. All of my teeth were loose and when I wouldn't let up, they ALL fell out.

What the...??

I couldn't believe it. So I poked around with my tongue some more...they were fine. All my teeth were there, sturdy as ever. What the hell is going on? Then it dawns on me...I was sleeping a minute ago. But it felt so real. I felt it with my own tongue.

This dream happened to me often. It was getting to the point were I almost expected to have this at least once a week. And it fooled me every time. I never caught on that it was a dream until I finally woke up and felt it for myself.

Once I moved out of my parents house the dreams stopped. I couldn't stand it anymore...I needed to know what these dreams meant.

I don't remember where I found the information so I can't site it properly, but I found out that when you dream about your teeth falling out, you feel as though you are not being heard.
That's it! It makes total sense.

My dad is a typical male (no offense dad). But, when I would go off on one of my typical teenage girl stories, my dad's eyes would glass over and the occasional 'hm mm' would be mumbled by him. He wasn't listening, only being polite.

Once I moved out of my parents house well two things happened. For one, I believe that I get to the point a lot quicker now (except for this post), and two, I met Dan who is a better actor than my dad and it really does seem like he's listening to me.

It was quite a relief to know what these dreams were about, and finally to have them end. Anyone else have a reoccurring dream?