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By herself Date: 2008 Oct 09 Comment on this Work [[2008.10.09.15.16.15997]] |
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Pushing my son's stroller down the blacktop baking in the East Texas heat dazed in the carcinogenic sun but still with frozen pineapple brain and Eskimo aspirations an epiphany like a mosquito lands on the back of my neck and sucks away. I was just wondering how my mom with Lupus did it the other day... strolled my son to the postbox down the street. Then I realized: my mom is a horse. Healthy. Strong. Plodding along not racing but plodding along despite Lupus and a few other things that would kill a lesser species like me. I'm no horse. I'm...a poodle. My god. My least favorite animal. It all goes back to Suzette, my great-grandmother's (Marie Crenshaw was an elephant) (huge in spirit and heart...mythic...fierce) (not tiger fierce) (elephant fierce) misanthropic cranky ugly ancient white poodle. I hated that dog. Suzette hated me more. I was in kindergarten. I was sitting at the table in my grandparents' kitchen. Mamaw was cleaning out the refrigerator. Suzette was at her heels. I kept teasing Suzette. Suzette kept snarling. Mamaw: "Keep teasing her and she'll bite your finger." I guess I was then what I am now. Stupid. Up to no good risky business all the day long. I kept teasing. Suzette kept snarling. Then she chomped down on my pinky. Ha ha! That'll learn ya! I cried. I sobbed. I wailed. I bawled. My pinky was bleeding! But Mamaw had warned me. Suzette had had enough. Suzette lived a long time. The only human she loved was Mamaw. She died and was buried behind Mamaw's vegetable garden. I've hated poodles ever since. I have become that which I hated. I want to be left alone, truly. I'm no longer seeking communion with kindred spirits. Keep your bone. I've chewed my share. I'm not in the market for chew toys, biscuits, pats on the head, rubs on the belly, teases, dares or any amount of sex. I want a good air conditioner going full blast. I want to be alone with the shadows on the wall. I like how long they've become. I know I'm small. I know I'm ugly. I know I'm intolerant. I know I'm better left alone. Don't blame me for any amount of blood. |