MORE CUTS AND SCARS

A while back, I wrote a post about several times I had accidentally cut myself. Well, in case you were wondering, those were not the only times I’ve been cut. I want to share a few more today and hopefully, you’ll be entertained for a few minutes as you delve a little deeper into my life lessons.

I had been working at my new job for just a few weeks packing vinyl siding in boxes as it came off a conveyor belt. Sometimes a piece of trash would get in the vinyl somewhere along the way and it would make a hole in the piece of siding. When that happened we would have to quickly saw the piece of siding off behind the hole with a hacksaw and feed it back into the track between the rollers.

One night, a huge hole formed so I grabbed the hacksaw and cut the piece of siding as fast as I could, but I wasn’t fast enough to get it back into the rollers in time. I had to try it again so I grabbed the quick-moving siding with my left hand and the saw with my right hand and started sawing again. After only two strokes, I stopped. To my shock, the second stroke had cut my thumb almost completely off.

I ran to the restroom and washed my thumb in the sink. I could see that the saw had cut a trench in my thumb as wide as the teeth on the blade. There was only a small section of the nail and flesh left, and I was in a lot of pain.

I went to the emergency room and got it patched up. Then I spent the next week at work pushing a broom for twelve hours. That was worse than the accident itself. I finally was able to start doing more after a week and soon I was back to regular work.

Several years later, I picked up a small, metal pipe at work to toss it in the scrap truck. As I tossed it, I simply pushed it off the tip of my middle finger to watch it flip into the trailer as I had several times before. I didn’t get to watch it flip that time because as it left my hand, it took a piece of my finger with it. There was a metal burr on the end of the pipe and it sliced right into my flesh. More pain and more bandages, but it wasn’t the end of the world.

I have had some pretty bad scrapes and cuts and cracks. A few of them have been on, or around my head, but not many directly on my face. There was that one time, though. My wife’s dad had a camper he was using as a storage shed. He had built a deck around two sides of it. We lived just down the road.

My oldest son and I were doing something there and I stepped up onto the deck which was only a few feet high. The sun was setting in the sky, and I was facing West so it was shining right in my eyes. Just as both feet hit the deck, I came to a quick stop. It was a hard stop, too. My face had hit the end of a TV antenna pole that was propped up on the deck at about a thirty-degree angle. It struck me at the top of my nose right between my eyes.

My vision became blurry for a minute or so. When I felt to see how bad it was, then I felt the blood and I felt the pain arrive. When I looked at my hand it was bloody. I told my son we needed to go before I passed out. We made it home and I cleaned it up and got to feeling better, but I still have the scar to remind me of that painful day.  

Let me give you one more for the road. I was picking a few things up off the floor at work. I don’t remember what it was but there were several of them. I think it might have been trash or screws or washers. I don’t know. I guess it really doesn’t matter because what happened next is what I want to tell you about.

When I bent over to pick up that last, whatever, I would never have imagined what happened next could even be possible. As I raised back up, my head was abruptly stopped by the sharp corner of an electrical panel. I hit it hard, and it cut deep. I think it took three stitches to close the wound. I’m not sure about that either. The whole thing is a bit blurry. Anyway, I feel I was blessed in all of these situations because each one could have been worse. I truly believe that old saying, “It could always be worse.”

I feel fortunate to have experienced all I have in my life, and I’d like to think that I learned valuable lessons from each experience. If nothing else, hopefully, I at least learned not to do the same thing again.

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TO ALL THE DOGS I'VE LOVED BEFORE

I remember a song I heard in the early Eighties called “To All the Girls I’ve Loved Before.” It was written by Hal David and Albert Hammond. It has been recorded by several artists and bands, in several different languages, but the one I remember the most is the version by Julio Iglesias and Willie Nelson, from 1984. I have always loved parodies of songs and I’ve written several over the years, so when I was thinking about a name for this story about dogs I’ve loved and lost, the title “To All the Dogs I’ve Loved Before.” just jumped out at me.

I remember having several different pets, other than dogs, that I truly loved. Most of them loved to receive affection but were not that great at returning it. There’s no animal that I know of that returns affection quite like a dog. Their love seems to be unconditional.

The first dog I remember having as a friend was named Clete. I wrote about him a while back in the post titled “Our Best Friend.” I’ll put a link at the end of this post in case you missed it. Check it out to see the strange way he got his name. I don’t have a clue what breed he was, but he was a brown and white mid-sized dog. He was with us for several years before he died. He was family, and it broke our hearts when he left us.

Then, there was Bonnie. She was a mutt. Her mother was a small black Chihuahua named Pretty, but Bonnie was much bigger than her mother. She was very smart, too, but something was wrong with her. She had a litter of puppies, but they all died within a few days after birth. The same thing happened to her next litter, with one exception. As puppy after puppy died, one little black and white male kept growing. When all the others were gone, he was still going strong. I named him Sparky. He was a miracle and I loved him. I was so happy he didn’t die, but that happiness was cut short. Early one morning when I went to see him, I found that he had died during the night. I was so heartbroken.

My aunt, who was my dad’s sister, had given Bonnie to my parents, and they had let me have her. I was told my aunt wanted her back. By this time she had given birth to another litter of puppies. They all died except two. Those two had made it several months and were still going strong. I named my favorite one Dee Cee from the name of a pair of jeans I had at the time. My grandmother said I could only keep one dog so I gave Bonnie back to my aunt and later, I gave the other dog to a distant uncle. When I would come home from school DeeCee would always run out to meet me and jump up into my arms. We played together all the time. Once again, I had allowed myself to love an animal, setting myself up for another heartbreak, which did eventually come.

One day we came home and my best friend wasn’t there to meet me. I searched the neighborhood and looked everywhere for him, but hours turned to days, and days turned to weeks, and I finally realized he was gone for good. I never saw him again.

I had other dogs over the years, but I wouldn’t let myself get too attached to them, so when something happened to them, I wouldn’t be hurt so bad. Several years ago I wrote a short story called “Billy And His Strange Pet.” It was an allegory or parable about my experience with losing pets that I loved. I’ll put a link at the end of this post in case you missed that one.

I grew up and had children of my own, but I still would not allow myself to get attached to animals. Several years ago, God revealed some things to me about myself, and he began to soften my calloused heart. That healing started with a true understanding of forgiveness and continued on to include an appreciation for life, love, and family.

We need to appreciate the time we have with those we love, and when they’re no longer with us, we will have the memories of the love we shared together, whether that love is shared with humans or animals. It has been said many times that love is a universal language. The Bible says God is Love (1 John 4:8, 16) and love covers all sins (Proverbs 10:12), so everything we do should be done with love (1 Corinthians 16:14). Give love, and cherish the love you receive. In the end, it will make a world of difference, to you and everyone in your life.

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RELATED POSTS BELOW ---

Our Best Friend
https://teddylynn.blogspot.com/2017/05/our-best-friend.html

Billy And His Strange Pet 
https://teddylynn.blogspot.com/2015/07/billy-and-his-strange-pet.html

I Forgive You, Mr. Richmond
https://teddylynn.blogspot.com/2015/08/i-forgive-you-mr-richmond.html

My books are available in paperback and digital format on Amazon @ 
https://www.amazon.com/Teddy-Lynn/e/B01MZDB6L6