January 17, 2013

  • She Sure Can Tell A Sob Story

    WAWAWA she wailed,

    claiming she could no longer take care of her dogs.

    Or her horses.

    WAWAWA she cried,

    when she fell on her backside and bruised it,
    along with her ego.

    WAWAWA she wept,

    declaring she was submitting herself to the wheelchair
    and moving where no one could find her in the desert of west Texas.

    Well, put your snot rags away, you mangy varmints,
    she’s singing a new song.

    She’s buying a smaller house on forty acres right here in Oklahoma.

    She’s keeping her dogs.

    And her horses.

    She’s discovered a new natural supplement
    and is going to kick this sorry disease’s butt,
    as soon as she gains a bit more strength.

    Crohns, you didn’t win this round.



    I know. I am about as predictable as a hormonal wildcat who missed her daily dose of valium.
    I couldn’t do it.
    I just couldn’t do it.
    Leave the state, my kids, my critters, my way of life.
    Not yet, anyway.
    Somehow, we are going to figure out a way to make this work.
    Thank you, you beautiful peoples, for all your sweet words
    as I find my way through this challenge.  I love you.
    We have made an offer on this place closer to the city.

Comments (56)

Post a Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.