19 years old and living in a grungy city in Scotland. I'm studying something to do with psychology, but the only thing I've learnt in the past two years is how much I hate people.
This tumblr thing is strange and confusing to me.
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
Boo is a dangerous, beast and will kill you without batting an eye.
…and she is adorable.
Fragility of life and luck
I’ve been constantly thinking lately. My dosage is up, I’m seeing a specialist and my viral infections are nearly gone. I’m starting to feel a little brighter, a bit…better.
And then today, I came home from work. I sat down and checked eBay for details of something I just bought and I chilled in the sun with my cats.
It was hot so I opened the window.
The cats usually never have much luck getting the birds. Recently, a lovely young lady blackbird had a close encounter with Boo and thus lost most of her tail feathers. She was a hardy wee bird though, and survived easily and wasn’t scared away. She kept visited the feeding area we have for them though and even came up to the window a few times. She wasn’t bothered at all. It had been two and a half weeks.
While I was relaxing in the sun and the cats were asleep on their chair, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. It was the little blackbird. She looked at me and I smiled at it, amused by her bravery. “Hello darling. You’re not afraid at all, are you? I hope your tail feathers grow back someday. I’m sorry for the cats.”
She just chirped and flew away.
I thought nothing of it.
A couple of hours later, the sun has moved and is heating the conservatory like a furnace.
The acts move to sit near the open window. I think nothing of it - they’re just hot and I was too. Even my haribo had melted!
It was a few minutes later that I heard a thud and saw Boo go shooting out the window. I was on my feet in a second, scrabbling for the keys, all the while screaming “Boo! Leave it alone now!” at the top of my voice.
I rush outside barefoot, screaming and waving my arms about. The cat pauses for a moment and the bird it had managed to escape. To my surprise I saw the little blackbird. She fluttered up onto the fence and proceeded to cheep and chirp her heart out.
I spent the next thirty minutes standing guard over this little birdie, chasing the cats away anytime the came near. The little lady bird didn’t fly away at all until I started to move inside when my mum got home from work. She flew to the top of a hedge, far out of the reach of the cats, so I felt she’d be safe. She’d fly away and not come back for a while. At the very least, she’d be a little bit more careful.
Hours later, after dinner, I went to open the front door and invite the other cat, Buff, in for some milk. She shot in, straight through the house and into the back conservatory I had been in earlier. I was amused until I heard my mum shouting “She has something! She has something in her mouth!”
I rushed into the conservatory and grabbed her by the scruff of her neck. She’d dropped her catch and after I lobbed the cats outside and locked the door, I went to check on the creature I assumed was dead.
The little female blackbird with no tail lay in the middle of the room. Horrified, I grabbed my dad’s gardening gloves and approached, ready to pick up a dead, limp body.
But when my hand scooped her up, her eyes opened widely and she stared at me, so terrified but so alive, her little feet kicking out. Shocked but filled with hope, I put her in a box with an old blanket in it and set her down in the corner of the room, so there would be less things to cause a potential sensory overload.
I sat down on the step into the conservatory and watched over her, once again.
I had only seen this bird a few times, eating in the garden like countless other birds. She was a wild animal. She shouldn’t be anything special.
But watching over that little birdie who had been so lucky to avoid getting caught several times before, I felt strongly attached to it, as if it were my own pet.
I was going to get up and find some seed for her when I noticed she wasn’t breathing. I didn’t know how long she’d stopped breathing, but I tried a few chest compressions out if desperation. She couldn’t be dead. She was a lucky bird, she’d survived so much, so long, she could survive this.
But her eyes stared at me, dead. Gone.
She was beautiful - rich brown feathers, pale speckled stomach. Her beak wasn’t quite yellow yet, her feathers still growing out. I could see the broken feathers in her rear.
And she was gone. They wouldn’t grow to full adult feathers. She wouldn’t be outside, hopping across the grass again.
And I felt incredibly empty. I carried her outside, cupped in both my hands. I closed her eyes then put her in a shoe box and gave it to dad. I’m pretty sure he just put her in the bin.
I can’t get the images of her earlier out of my mind. This cute little bird, hopping about, looking at me through the window.
Life is so fragile. I’m a lucky creature. I’m at the height of the food chain, in a comfortable existence. I have a lovely house, a constant supply of food, lots of the best technology at my disposal. I am lucky. I’m very lucky.
That little bird was lucky too. But sadly, her luck ran out.
I don’t know. My mind is swirling; a slow, lethargic twisting of thoughts. I’m very sad about the blackbird. I’d only spotted her a few times, but this…I don’t know. I think I’m too emotional for situations like this.
Fandom: Harry Potter
“‘Goodbye cruel world.’ The hat intoned before he jumped from the edge of the tower. He closed his eyes awaiting the end.
A wind picked up and the hat spiraled, floating downward until he landed on the ground relatively unharmed.
‘Oh shit, that’s right I’m a hat.’”
They told me the big black Lab’s name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I’d only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.
But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn’t hurt. Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie’s advertisement on the local news. The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn’t look like “Lab people,” whatever that meant. They must’ve thought I did.
But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of which were brand new tennis balls, his dishes and a sealed letter from his previous owner.
See, Reggie and I didn’t really hit it off when we got home. We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too.
Maybe we were too much alike.
I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that. “Okay, Reggie,” I said out loud, “let’s see if your previous owner has any advice.”
____________ _________ _________ _________
To Whomever Gets My Dog:
Well, I can’t say that I’m happy you’re reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie’s new owner. I’m not even happy writing it. He knew something was different.
So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you.
First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he’s part squirrel, the way he hoards them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn’t done it yet. Doesn’t
matter where you throw them, he’ll bound after them, so be careful. Don’t do it by any roads.
Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones —-“sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.”
He knows hand signals, too: He knows “ball” and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody’s business.
Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.
He’s up on his shots. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck getting him in the car. I don’t know how he knows when it’s time to go to the vet, but he knows.
Finally, give him some time. It’s only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He’s gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn’t bark or complain. He just loves to be around people, and me most especially.
And that’s why I need to share one more bit of info with you…His name’s not Reggie. He’s a smart dog, he’ll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn’t bear to give them his real name. But if someone is reading this … well it means that his new owner should know his real name. His real name is “Tank.” Because, that is what I drive.
I told the shelter that they couldn’t make “Reggie” available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. You see, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could’ve left Tank with .. and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter … in the “event” … to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my CO is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he’d do it personally. And if you’re reading this, then he made good on his word.
Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family. And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family, too, and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he
loved me.
If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to the US I am glad to have done so. He is my example of service and of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.
All right, that’s enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. Maybe I’ll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.
Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss goodnight - every night - from me.
Thank you,
Paul Mallory
____________ _________ _________ _______
I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure, I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver
Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.
I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.
“Hey, Tank,” I said quietly.
The dog’s head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.
“C’mere boy.”
He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn’t heard in months. “Tank,” I whispered.
His tail swished.
I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my
face into his scruff and hugged him.
“It’s me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me.” Tank reached up and licked my cheek.
“So whatdaya say we play some ball?” His ears perked again.
“Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?”
Tank tore from my hands and disappeared into the next room. And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.”
(Source: stephaniekilbury)
iPhone autocorrected ‘hayfever’ to ‘gay fever’.
I cannot stop laughing. There are tears in my eyes. I might actually be hysterical.
First time selling things on eBay
The sheer excitement when I saw someone had bid on one of the lots!
It’s rather silly but I was pleased - “Someone is willing to buy my stuff!” :D
Does it really get better? Will I find peace? Do I ever find someone who loves me as much as I love them?
Seriously Future Me, there has to be something good to look forward to. Hoverboards, perhaps? I just hope things get a little brighter, not just in my world, but in everyone else’s too. Is there a war? There probably is a war.
Also, the really big thing I need to ask future me - am I a crazy cat lady yet?
please do this. cure my boredom <3
I will write about the following, leave one in my ask box
Dear person I hate,
Dear person I like,
Dear ex boyfriend
Dear ex bestfriend,
Dear bestfriend,
Dear *anyone*,
Dear Santa,
Dear mom,
Dear dad,
Dear future me,
Dear past me,
Dear person I’m jealous of,
Dear person I had a crush on
Dear girlfriend
Dear boyfriend
Gpoy
(Source: notyoda)
