Friday, January 23, 2015

Little Spooners

Norman Rockwell the Little Spooner or Sunset was my inspiration to write a story.
Two best friends sitting on a bench looking at the moon recalling their friendship.
Drugged by medication my mind drifts back in time to my youth.
I see myself and my best friend sitting on that old wooden bench which I am sure has long decayed like my youth has faded with old age.

A tiny tear trickles down my cheeks as I remember the crystal blue waters of
the lake and me sitting next to my best friend with his arms caressed with mine as he snuggles close to me.

I lay here in this dark cold room on a bed not my own, looking at the face of the clock hanging on the wall.
I am sure that the clock could tell many stories as he looks at me.
I can see my life in the clocks face just ticking away.
I wish it would stop and smile at me but it just keeps on ticking.
When I was young, I never thought much about time or a clock because all my time was spent with my best friend.
Our love and friendship were timeless.
We shared that same love with Spot.
We found Spot when he was just a pup.
His mother had died during birthing her pups.
The owner had taken the mother and her pups into the woods to leave them to die.
We found the mother and six little pups all dead except one.
We buried all of them and nursed the living pup back to health.

We gave the tiny pup the name of Spot because her coat was spotted with black, brown, white, and red fur.
We shared the love of Spot but Spot lived at my house.
Wherever we went he was there trotting along behind us.

Spot was a shorthaired Beagle.
His ears, head, and back were black and brown, his legs and part of his back and between his eyes were white.
He had beautiful big brown eyes and around his eyes were patches of red fur.

My mind now drifts to our fishing hole and how Spot responded when we would catch fish.
Spot would let us know by barking, that he was ready for dinner for he loved to eat fish but it had to be cooked. 
Sometime we would build a campfire and bake the fish just for Spot.
Sometimes I could see and feel Spot on the bed next to me. I would reach over to stroke Spot’s back but I soon realize that it was just a dream.
It is good to dream it gives us hope of a better day so we can forget about the aches and pains of old age.

My best friend and I built the old wooden bench that we sat on when we were just spooners.
We cut two young saplings for the bench legs and dug two very deep holes to place them in.
We had brought a wooden plank from home to make the seat. The plank was unfinished so we would have to be careful not to get splinters.

It was called our Little Spooner Seat.
We had borrowed a shovel, saw, hammer, nails, and a hoe from my dad’s barn to make the bench.
We had to remember to return the tools or my dad would have had a cow.
It took us all day to cut down the two saplings, dig the two holes, and put together the bench.
We did not mind and time didn’t matter.

We would sit in our special Spooner place and watch the sunset even Spot was silent at this time.

The love we had for each other was eternal and we shared this love with Spot.
Spot lived over fifteen years and it was a sad day we had to put him in the ground as if part of our hearts died that day.

It has been many years since I heard Spot barking.
Thinking back to when I was a girl of thirteen that is when we found Spot.

My best friend and I went to college in our hometown.
It took me four years to become a registered nurse.
My best friend wanted to be a Veterinarian so he had to leave town to attend college for a few years.

We married soon after he returned home but never had any children.
My best friend treated many animals and I was always at his side.
I had trained to be a nurse but went to work for my husband for we both love animals.

Spot had a special place in our hearts because he had been our first pet together.

We tried for many years to have children but finally gave up.
I guess it was just not meant for us to have any children.
We would have had beautiful children for both of us were of Irish descent.
I always had long flowing red hair that I kept platted with a ribbon tied at the end.
I was a tall lanky girl with a freckled face.

My Spooner was a handsome man he had short red hair, a freckled face, and long legs.
He had to wear suspenders to hold up his pants because he had a skinny waist.
If he bought his pants, long enough they were too big in the waist.
I dearly loved my Spooner.

I traveled with my husband to help him take care of other people’s animals and we were both too busy to have any animals of our own.
We both volunteered at the animal shelter helping take care of the unwanted animals.

One summer we volunteered to go to South Africa to help set up a veterinarian clinic and to train the people there on how to care for the wounded animals until a Veterinarian could come and take our place.

I will never forget that adventure.
We had an alligator that had swallowed a log, it was hung in his throat, and we had to remove it. That was a trip.
We had a lion that had been attacked by another lion and left to die.
We nursed him back to life.
We had a giraffe get his neck stuck in the top of a tree.
We had a rhino get stuck in the mud and it took a huge truck to pull him out.

All those memories soon began to fade as I fell into a deep sleep.
My mind seems to come, & go some days life seems so real, and other days like a dream.
Sadly, I no longer have my pet Spot or my best friend who was the love of my life for both left this world many years ago.

I never thought I would outlive my best friend but here I lay in this bed all alone with just my memories and some days no memories at all.


Growing old is not so bad but I sure would be nice to have my best friend at my side.


Little Spooners


Being someone’s first love may be great, but to be their last is beyond perfect.




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