I’ve not meant to have left but I’ve been suffering through a loss for my family.  I’ve pushed away all that who have tried to help.

I’ve gone in a modified Jewish Shiva and mourned but the pain is still strong.  There is nothing I can do about it but just let the pain wash over me and try to move on.  But I am getting ahead of myself.  A post delay of a week without a peep is cause for concern.  So please let me explain in the best way I can… I have a lot to say and you are going to have to deal with many issues this post back.

My family does not communicate well.  We try but we have our moments of challenging moments where we say something and what we say is taken than the way we intended.  Its something that I have hated in my life. 

I used to cause fights with my Mom and Dad , when I was leaving from visiting them on my way back to college, so I didn’t have to say good bye.  I could just leave and let the anger on both our parts boil away until one of us would call, one making sure that the departed got to the destination and the departee making sure that the parental units were not to worry anymore.

So I’ve always tried to seperate emotion as best as I could because I didn’t feel that emotions were my suit.  I let people in but I would throw them to the curb as soon as I felt that I was hurt.

But when my emotions, pure raw emotions were released, Katie bar the door I was a whilrling dervish of emotions.  I don’t let them out often, frustration probably more than the others.  Happiness is given to everyone.

But lately I’ve been down.  And the one thing that always knew when I was down was my dog Mugsy.  Now Mugsy Red Raider Von Lubbock as his AKC registration read, was born on July 6th, 1997 could ALWAYS tell when I was down.

I’d sit in my chair with my hands on the sides and he would come up to me, his metals of his owner and his shot record jingling and he could tell when I was down.  He’s nudge my hand as if to say, “It’s going to be okay,” and if I didn’t move, he’d do it again. He was relentless, and if I yelled, he would wait, and pause, bringing back a toy and try again until I would play with him.  He’d always knew when I was down, and when I was divorced living on the floor, he slept next to me.  He has these eyes that could look right through you and tell you, “Hey Dad, it’s going to be allright.”

Now technically Mugsy was my ex-wife’s Angie’s dog.  My mother gave Angie Mugsy on August 18, 1997 as we moved into our house.  We moved from the apartment after somebody tried to break in.  We needed to feel secure and a house with a dog would be that security.

The funny thing is, that Mugsy never bonded with Angela at all.  In the months preceding our divorce Mugsy would show his displeasure at Angie by pissing on her shirts and clothes, anything she left on the floor.  I knew better.

 

In the end Mugsy was my dog, and my dog saved my life.  I can be 100% sure of it.

You see, last Wednesday evening I had planned to get online and play some poker with some friends.  I was planning to get back and get some things done with the house while watching the Presidential debate.  But then about 7:40 the doorbell rang and I laughed thinking that Joanna had forgotten her keys again and went to the door thinking it was her.

It wasn’t, it was a man, description doesn’t matter, because he gave me the heebie jeebies.

“Is this the house of the man who lost his wife,” he asked?

“Excuse me,” I stuttered.

“Yeah, is this the house that the man’s wife got killed,” he continued as he approached the screen door.

I closed the door with a “Wrong house” and turned the deadbolt on it.

Joanna came over and I didn’t even mention the scary guy to her just asked if anyone was outside because Mugsy was still going crazy barking. I looked both ways and the man wasn’t to be seen.

Joanna wanted me to go with her to her house but I wanted to finish watching the debate and writing.  So she left.

Mugsy barked as she left and ran out the back door through his doggie door. He came back in and did his perimeter march.  I finished watching the debate and started to run a bath.  Mugsy once again started barking and many a time I have let him bark to open the door to see a cat or some other thing that had him going. I told him to go get em.  There was a new neighbor next door to me and she had a cat.  I thought nothing of the barking and took my bath.  When I got out I hadn’t heard Mugsy come back.  But I thought he was still staying at the bottom of the fence waiting for the cat to make its move onto our property.

I say our property because he always has been a member of my family.  Shelby and Ryan always learned to respect him and with their dog that they have in Indiana, they never pulled his tail, for Shelby got nipped on the finger after doing it once.  Ryan saw the incident and realized, “Daddy, it’s not nice to pull Mugsy’s tail.”  When Shelby and Ryan arrive Mugsy is the first on scene to jump up and give them hugs and kisses.

And he loves to chase cats, so I didn’t think anything of it when I hadn’t heard from him in 5 min.  He would patrol and them come back in.

But I was ready for bed and I called for him.

And there was no answer.

I called again, and there was no answer.  Even when I said for him to come get cheese, his favorite people food there was no answer.  So I got my flashlight and searched the back yard.

The side gate was open.

I had closed it and always check it when I come home and the side gate was closed when I got in that evening.

But it was definitely open. So I closed it thinking that it was weird and thought I would check the front.  I went back in the house, got more clothes than the boxers and t-shirt I had on and started to call for him.

I walked up the street and I saw underneath the street lamp’s light a body.

Mugsy’s body.

I was in shock and as I touched him cried as I thought I heard him growl.  One of his eyes had been dislodged and there as blood everywhere.  I called Joanna as I couldn’t think what to do.  She was on her way back and we took Mugsy to the Emergency Vet but there was nothing he could do.

He was gone.

I had left without any thought of my posessions and left my front door wide open. When we had returned from the Vet Lubbock PD met us and did a sweep of the house before we went back in.  Nothing had been moved but I shut down the house as best as I could and stayed at Joanna’s apartment until Saturday.

Someone strange had been in the neighborhood and had been reported earlier by one of the neighbors. The side gate has to be lifted and pulled to be opened so I highly doubt that Mugsy could have gotten out unless someone was trying to let him out.  Bad Mistake for you sir.  Because once he felt threatened Mugsy attacked and chased away whoever or whatever it was.

It’s hard for me to drive to the house at night right now, because I have to take the long way home so I don’t pass over the spot that he died.

The Vet said that a car had hit him killing him instantly. In a way I would believe that, except Mugsy would never go into the street.  He’d go an walk along the sidewalk and marking his territory as he went. But in the 11 years he was with me, he never went into the street without chasing something.

Here’s hoping he’s with Tara, Pat and Grandpa sitting under a tree and feeling the sun. 

 

Goodbye my friend, my companion, my guard dog.

Joanna:

Since we last left me, Joanna and I were going great guns a blazin.  Well, we took it way toooo fast.  So we are taking a weekend off and she is heading down to Austin to have a weekend away.  We’ve been so wrapped up into renovating the house, getting her through classes for her second degree and dealing with the death of Mugsy that we really haven’t been talking.  We’ve been more walking wounded, zombies that just allowed our emotions and anger to blow up today.

Maybe we can find common ground, maybe we will find what we lost a week ago. 

I’ve been talking to a friend who I helped many a time when we worked together.  And she has been supportive of Joanna and my relationship.  But she can’t stand to hear that a radio guy can’t communicate.  Ironic isn’t it.  So she is trying to get Joanna and I to communicate better.

We’ve been just taking it one second at a time and seeing whatever and whatever we can do to try and work things out.

Work:

Has been stressful lately.  The economy has hit hard and people are cutting back.  I’m trying to stay positive but everything will depend on how I can get through the next six months.  I have three projects I’ve been working on to various success levels and I have to be positive that I can get the results that I want.  I’ve been held back by people that indirectly hold the keys to my success.  Hopefully I can get past them and to the promised land of success.

The House:

  is coming along.  The kids bedroom is now furnished, wood floored, painted and this weekend looks like will have chair rail and baseboards put on.  Hopefully next week the final blind (half circle) will come in and will be placed to complete the kids room renovations.  FINALLY a project done.

Now I just have to find my stud finder and get the TV mounted in the living room.

Poker:

I went and played live poker this evening and I was amazed at the play of some people.  The drunks will call with any two cards and I am rusty, sheesh I take three weeks off from poker and I become rusty, what is this?  I guess I need to make some motions toward getting back on that kick.

How I feel:

Right now I feel lost, like I’m not sure what I’m missing, but there is a hole in my heart and soul.  I am trying to pick up the pieces and not hiding from the world, but no guarantees.

Special Messages:

THE WIFE – Thanks for your recent e-mail, I have meant to write a response but I haven’t had the mental energy to do so.

Waffles – Thanks for your words of wisdom. I know it wasn’t much but it helped when I needed it.

Riggstad – I know you are going through a load of shit, but for you, Alcanthang and Evy, GO PHILLIES.  Hell, a Met fan rooting for you.  That should show what kind of crap I’ve been going through.

Joanna – I’ve let my emotions get bottled inside me.  I’m just not used to have someone that I can depend on to not only be a girlfriend, but on the spot therapist there too. I’m sorry.

Mitchell – Where’s the stories that you said that you had if I ever needed a break and what about you too Reid.

and finally:

I’ve missed making the time for this little part of me.  I’ve hidden so many things and stories that I should share, but in the interest of time.

I won’t.