Shhh! Scribbler at Work

Love Hurts

(prompt: 'fright' 27/7/2018)

I guess fright was one of the myriad feelings jam-packed into those split-seconds as my life changed forever, but it was deep inside, way behind the forlorn hope it was all just a bad dream; one of those where I'd wake up with a start to find myself safe and over-warm in my dear bed.

Seriously! Only two days after I saw her for the first time, I could truly say I'd fallen for her. Head over heels. Irrevocably. Forever!

I never saw this one coming. Not until the very last moment. Love hurts, they say. But nothing prepared me for this degree of intensity and total surrender. I mean - I'm a married woman - same old, same old for close on fifty three years. And yet another female turns this grizzled old greybie's head, and commits grand larceny from this Braveheart from last century?? Who'd have thunk it? Way past those halcyon days, you'd have thought. .. uhrr, but you'd be wrong!

Last time - a few years ago - it was a different story. Ruby was an old duck, just like me. Outlived her usefulness - or so her family virtuously told themselves [also, just like me and most of mine]. We didn't give a toss what others said [or muttered or thought amongst their-goody-goody-two-shoes-selves]. Our love was all to do with that special empathy we shared with our impressive longevity.

There was only ever one male on my list of long-lost lovers. In that case it was his beseeching eyes that did us both in. Putty we were, Old McLarsen and self - begging to be moulded into anything our beauteous and brave Benji desired.

And now here was Daisy - who came into our lives not only to drop our willing hearts and souls to their depths when we realised the appallingly tiny degree of education she'd been exposed to. No fault of hers with that ultra-intelligence. Another great laughing girl to join our brood - now, in the twilight of our days. Uhrr... remember when I said no more dogs - a puppy would likely trip me over? Rescue a girlie in her prime? That would be safer.

Maybe there's a less exuberant, worse-behaved, more under-trained, less beautiful and appealing Kelpie than the unfortunately named 'Daisy' - somewhere in the world; somewhere in the annals of history. Thankfully, never met one. I thought when Benji gave me a spiral fracture of my L.hand ring finger, after giving me a severely sprained L. ankle on a previous occasion I had pretty well seen it all. Ha! To think, in my innocence, I once called those episodes 'dog day' afternoons!

THIS bozo swept me off my feet - literally! After wrapping my ankles up like a parcel headed for Africa (minus the red bow), she lurched forward - resulting in one badly broken wrist - and the rest is surgical history (all unbelievably successful, we fervently hope and pray). Certainly there was dream-time - but not the type I would have chosen. Ahh well, they say no pain, no gain. Using that criteria, I should be back to ten-finger touch-typing in super-fast time.

And our beautiful, re-named Kacy (Kanute and Christine's Yobbo)? Just now we talk through a sturdy steel fly-door (to keep me out of 'arm's way') and she's learning behavioural and social skills daily plus the delights of sisterhood with our Kelly the Kelpie.

Author's Note:  Yair, yair, I know... new land/sea record for slowness! OK, so you see how fast (and creative) you are with one hand and forearm plastered!

But sooth... is that sweet strains of violin semi-demi-quavers drifting through yon window? Or did Old McLarsen leave the back door ajar AGAIN?!?