I found myself today following what I call my memory trail, not all of the thing on this trail are real items that belong to the memories, but object that in my mind I have used to mark those times. Those of you who have read the bulk of my blog will know about the reasons for the trail but briefly for those who haven’t, I set the trail up as a way to test and store memories, things that I don’t want ever to forget, but due to my MS I have a high chance of loosing. When I knew what my future held and I had seen for myself the beginning of gaps that were difficult to access, I decided to try and beat it at it’s own game, giving me a away to hopefully always remember. The journey today was not a planned one but completely accidental. I am reasonably fogged in today and holding my thoughts in one place is proving difficult to do. I do have some tricks that seem to help, typing has a trick with a simple concept. I can and do touch type, it is actually easier on my mind in many ways as it is automatic, but when my mind flits to other things, looking at a computer screen is an invitation to wonder, so now I look at the keyboard, not for the letters, but because there is little there to distract me, it’s black, boring and doesn’t change. Like even the best system this does occasionally fail as it did earlier.
I was having a problem coming up with the next word and I stupidly let myself look up and across the room, searching for it. My eye settled on a gift I gave to Adam, a life size bronze boxer dog. In all fairness it is rather hard to miss object even though the bulk of him is hidden by the arm of the settee. I am not going to take you in to the ‘World of Adam’, as that would take far to much time to explain, but it is enough to say that Adam had always wanted a dog, which we really don’t have the space to house and with no garden I feel it is cruel to lock a large animal in my small world. I also really like my house and having been a dog owner I know the damage a puppy can do. Our bronze friend was my gift to him as the closest we could have to his dream, he also has a name, ‘Agent No.7’, as I said the ‘World of Adam’. ‘Agent No.7’ to me is every dog I ever had.
In my trail, ‘Agent No.7’ is the Corgi that my mother got as a gift once married, Chan was old an not too well tempered by the time I was learning to crawl. Chan was put down as he went for me one day as I grabbed him, he tried to bite me. I was luck, but I still have the line from just below my right eye to just above my lip, it’s faded with the years as my memory of being bitten has.
‘Agent No.7’ Is the beautiful black Labrador Trudy. Trudy was my and my brothers nanny. She came everywhere with us, told us off, herded us in to the house, licked the soap off us in the bath and slept in the hall out side our bedrooms. The whole family sat with her that night that the Vet came to the house. She developed a problem where her bones were slowly turning soft and when the evening came that she tried to follow us from her bed in the kitchen to our living room, and had to do so walking on her front legs and pulling her body behind her, we had no choice.
‘Agent No.7’ Is our second black Labrador Sara. Unlike Trudy she was no Nanny and seemed to be totally in love with my mother. She would play in the garden or try to follow us up trees as Trudy did, she just wanted to follow Mum around the house, but I still loved her.
‘Agent No.7’ Is Sable, my mistake. Sable was a Lab cross, but in looks she was a golden Lab, with a white blaze down her chest. At first she was the dream dog, she loved Teressa and brought a lot of fun into our home. I trained her and trained her well I thought, she followed commands perfectly and would never leave the garden without me, even if the gate was open, not one paw strayed over the line. I and everyone loved her. I have never managed to work out what the trigger was, but we where in the house and when I was cooking she wasn’t allowed in the kitchen for safety, being under my feet wasn’t a good idea as space in that room was limited. Suddenly she was there and I told her to go. She snarled at me, I grabbed her collar and returned her to her day bed. She got out of it straight away and refused to go back. I told her again and she lunged at me, teeth bared. Again my luck saved me, I manage to grab her in flight by the ruff or her neck. I held her in the air for a second and dropped her. She went to her bed, but I couldn’t have a dog like that around children.
‘Agent No.7’ Is great love, great fear, great memeories and great power. ‘Agent No.7’ may be made of bronze but he has become family. Silly I know.