• Senior Dog

    When you hear ‘seven years’, you think that’s ages away. It’s not so soon. I have plenty of time until then. But earlier this week, I realized that seven years can fly by so quickly.

    Earlier this week, my mom noticed that our dog was limping when she ran. One of her legs was raised and bent, like she was doing some sort of weird hop. Something I had never noticed her doing in the past, so it was news to me. Straightaway, I assumed that she was injured and brought her to the vet. The vet asked me – how old is she? while he examined the leg she didn’t run properly with.

    I told him, over seven years.
    He nodded, my answer confirming his suspicion.
    She was considered an old dog, and joint issues are a common thing for dogs her age. It was something that never occurred to me – that my dog would be old one day.

    The vet recommended I start giving her some glucosamine, which will hopefully alleviate the limping. Old people dog problems.

    The label on the bottle of pills I bought for her said – for senior dogs – aged seven and above. It’s as though they knew.


    I still remember the first day we brought her home. Snuggles was a feisty puppy, biting my finger before she got into the car. She was so tiny back then, I could easily carry her with one hand. She used to sleep in a laundry basket that we lined with a blanket.

    She was a very quiet puppy. Hardly anything would make her bark back then. Now that she’s older, she barks a lot more – which is something I found out after doing a Google search – some dogs do bark more when they’re older. They also have trouble controlling their bladders.

    All this just made me realize how old Snuggles is. While she still has many more years to live, I’m afraid it’ll all just pass by in the blink of an eye.

    I should stop googling so much. It’s making me more upset 🙁

  • Dark Blue

    Dark Blue

    It’s been a while since I’ve listened to a brand new podcast on a topic I’m unfamiliar with and today, I decided to check out a podcast called Dark Blue – by one of my all-time favorite vocalists, Geoff Rickly of Thursday. Coincidentally, I was wearing a Thursday T-shirt (also, today is a Thursday ). It’s a podcast series that covers a topic I don’t come across often – the struggles of being an artist and how to deal with it.

    While I consider myself a part-time artist, in the sense that I write, draw, and make music in my spare time, I’ve never really thought about the lives of musicians who aren’t on the radar. Sure, I may listen to their music but whatever goes on in their personal lives – I don’t really know or even care enough to find out. Turns out, despite us seeing them “living the dream” a lot of them struggle with their personal lives.

    One of the reasons cited in the podcast is that there is no guide-book on how to be an artist. Sure, in school you can learn all the skills you need to be one but what happens when you become one? Nobody teaches you how to deal with the struggles of being an artist – let alone be a successful one. Then again, speaking as an unsuccessful artist – it doesn’t seem like it would be hard to deal with. Just go get a regular job to pay the bills.

    I’m not suddenly an expert on how to deal with the struggles of being an artist, so I won’t be giving out any advice here – I’m probably the last person you want to ask for life advice. However, I am really glad I started listening to Dark Blue as it has opened my eyes (or ears) to a world I’m unfamiliar with. I never thought I would find a podcast about such dark issues so compelling. I guess it helps that I’m a fan of some of the artists on the show, including the host.

    Anyway, if you are interested in learning about how to deal with psychological issues as an artist, or you’re dealing with such issues yourself, I would highly recommend you check out Dark Blue. It should be available on all your favorite podcast apps or you can listen to it online.

  • We Could Live Like Hermits

    “Stop.”

    “The fuck you mean?” I snapped.

    “Just don’t. It’s not going to end well.”

    “And how would you know that?” I retorted. “You from the future?”

    Silence.

    I placed my Glock onto my lap, lifted my ski mask and looked into the welled-up eyes of my best friend seated on the passenger side of my beaten-up ‘93 Camaro. I always found it funny that we both shared the same green eyes when nobody else in town I’ve met had them. “Brother from another mother,” he’d tell me all the time.

    Ever since we met, we got along famously. Through good times and bad times, we’d stick together, coming out on top. Even though today was going to be one of them, I had a feeling that he was going to get cold feet. I strengthened my resolve.

    “You don’t understand, Francis. I just got let go, I’ve got a kid on the way, I’m up to my neck in debt,” I told him. “I need this.”

    “Just trust me,” he replied, in between sobs. “It’s a bad idea, someone’s going to call the cops, there’s going to be a massive shoot out, and you’re going to end up… dead.”

    “The fuck you on about? You gonna call the cops on me? Aren’t we in this together?”

    “I’m not gonna snitch, it’s not that –”

    “What happened to all that talk about leaving this town and starting a new life far away? You and Sam; me, Nancy and the little one; neighbors on a farm in the middle of nowhere. Don’t you want that?”

    “I do, but – “

    “But? But shut the fuck up! You in it or you out. I don’t got time for this shit.”

    I pulled my ski mask back on, readied my gun, and stepped out onto the front steps of the town’s largest bank.


    Writing Prompt from Reddit: [WP] You have realized that your best friend is your son/daughter from the future who wants to hang out and get to know you since you die before he/she was born