Homage to Jelly

I took Pippy to the vet yesterday, December 29^th, 2015.  While I was checking in, the receptionist, with whom I have been friends for many years, told me an odd thing happened this week.  She said a Shreveport Police Officer called her on Monday.  She was tracing the rabies tag of a dog that had been hit, in downtown Shreveport.  She said she had moved the dog out of the road, and onto the side of the road.  It was Jelly.  I broke down, cried and made a scene, I am sure.  After almost a year, I finally know that my sweet little smushie face is dead. 

I have no idea how she ended up in downtown Shreveport.  Perhaps she was still with Paige.  Perhaps Paige is now homeless or living in her car.  Our homeless tend to hang out downtown.  Perhaps she gave her to someone, or she ran away.  I have no idea.  All I know, is it is finally over, and I can stop killing myself over all of this. 

For a year, I have cried over Jelly, grieved for her, constantly worried where she was or what had happened to her.  At night I tortured myself wondering if she was cold, or hungry?  Did she know I loved her?  That I cried for her at night?  Was she happy?  Now I know, the answer to some of those questions.  I am grateful to the Officer who’s tiny gesture, has meant the world to us.  It has given my peace.

Jelly would have turned 13 this spring.  You can read about our adventures in Meet Paige  and  Goodbye Paige. 

When I finally told the rest of my pack what had happened, Precious the second, suggest perhaps we should howl for her.  So that she might find her way back to us.  I know wolves do this in the wild.  They howl to other pack members, and sometimes for a lost or dead member.  Perhaps Precious found that memory in my mind.  So we began to howl a terrible and mournful cry, by the time we were done I felt Jelly settle near us.  After 2 years my baby was home, if nothing more than her spirit.

I had already lit my candle for her, burned my incense, and called for Holda to come and retrieve her spirit until I could properly cross her last night.  I felt her happy spirit near me all night, and when I lay down I could feel her spirit kissing me.  I called for Bifrost and on it we rode.  When we entered Holda’s Garden, all Jelly’s friends were there.  Boy-Boy aka Prince, Punka, Precious the first, and some of my living babies, Princess and Sophia, had made the trip with us as well.  She was warmly greeted by all who had loved her.  She was finally safe.  The last I saw of her, she was running off behind the Apple Grove to go and hunt for moles, one of her favorite activities in the whole world.  She was always a great huntress.  I returned to this plane, smiled, and told Jay that Jelly was safe and happy. 

I have lost three children this year, Rebecca, Prince, and now Jelly.  As I write this, it is the last day of Yule 2015.  We know that as Holda and Odin ride in the Wild Hunt, black dogs or hounds bay at their feet.  They are gathering up the dead.  Perhaps Prince is riding with the Hunt and called to Jelly.  Perhaps the whole reason he died, was so come this time of year, he could bring her home.  I have no idea, I am just speculating here. 

We always said that Prince and Jelly were married.  We had caught them making out many years ago, and they did love to go hunting together.  We even have “wedding” and “honeymoon” pictures of them together.  Who knows, perhaps it is just our stupid human mind trying to make sense of things.  Maybe Prince was lonely and wanted her to join him.  Maybe he was rescuing her from whatever living conditions she was in.  That’s probable something I will never know, and honestly don’t want to.  I would just make me madder.

We have no body to bury, no collar to put on my altar, so we have decided to bury one of Jelly’s outfits in Boy-Boy’s grave.  I have already made her an offering on my ancestor altar of this little red and white monkey that plays music.  It plays, “I like to move it, move it.”  She loved all toys, but in particular ones that sang or danced.  I have kept this little monkey hid all these years, so she would not find it and destroy it.  It seems like a fitting offering I think.

Ilsa

 

Goodbye Paige

I would watch Paige use men, and be used by them.  She brought one home named Kevin.  He stayed with us for a week.  Telling us he was going to remodel our bathroom for room and board.  We said that was great.  He tore apart my bathroom, and in the end stole over $1000 worth of tools from us.  When a person tells you that they are a 5 time felon, with warrants out for their arrest, and that they have stole in the past.  Believe them, and don’t let them in your house!  I had no idea until after he left that she had only been texting him for about 3 days before they met and shagged for the first time, or that he had been homeless.  He also seems to have had a drug problem.  He would take Paige’s car, at that point still legally my car, and disappear for hours at night.

The night Kevin left and we discovered everything that was missing, we of course called the cops.  Paige just laid in her room.  We met with the cop on the front porch, we were scared if he came in the house he would smell weed.  We hid that too.  We knew Paige had warrants out for her, because of old speeding tickets.  I did not want the cop to take her.  Finally he said, “I want to talk to her.”  He agreed he would take her in for her old warrants.  I went in to Paige who was laying in the room feeling sorry for herself, and told her to come out.   She refused.  I went out to the cop and told her she refused.  He said, “Either she comes out or I’m going in to get her.”  He believed her to be an accomplice in all of this, and she may very well have been.  I don’t know.  I went back and finally got her to come out.  Paige could be a hateful bitch, and gods was she one that night. 

The cop was polite to her and she was downright hateful, not mean, not rude, but downright hateful.  I have a problem with people who hate cops, since Jay’s Grandfather, Great-Grandfather, and Great Uncle were all police officers.  Given my history with Melinda and Paige, I have come to believe people who hate police, often have something to hide.

The Police officer asked for her birthday and full name.  She refused to give both.  Finally he told her, “Mam’ either you give me your birthday or I will hall you in for obstruction.”  Since I did not want that to happen, I told him both.  I should have let him take her.  Would have saved me so much trouble, but I didn’t.  Paige gave me this “go to hell” look, like you would not believe.  Didn’t she understand I was trying to save her???  She was mad at me for days after that.  They never did find our stuff or Kevin for that matter.  When I called the police later to discuss how the investigation was going, they told me they would also like to give me the number for Jerry Springer, because of how fucked up this shit was.

The next man she brought in, a few days later, was Vincent Stumblingbear. I will never forget him or his name.  He was a terrible drunk.  We went two rounds with him.  He promised to fix our bathroom for room and board as well.  We were hesitant, but said yes anyways.  He did lay most of the floor. I think he stayed a week.  Oh they were in love and they were going to get married.  Vincent was Native American.  Paige knew nothing of native peoples. She often insulted him and I had to correct her.  She told Vincent, “When we get married, why don’t you wear your regalia?” Which was totally insulting to him, regalia is for rituals and pow-wow, it is not a Halloween costume.  He and I both had to explain how insulting it was. Vincent had taken a shine to me, but then many of her fellows did. 

Vincent had only been here a few days when we came to understand he had a serious drinking problem.  One night he drank 2 fifths of vodka, another bottle of some purple liquid stuff that was not quite a fifth, and something else.  And he was still upright the next morning, when we found him.  He’d been wandering the woods all night long.  He had never been to bed.  Paige and him fought and he tried to hit her.  He stopped just in time.  It was enough to terrify me. 

Jay and I told Paige we wanted him gone, and he left.  But he would not stop calling.  Vincent promised to be a good boy, if he could come back, ‘cause he just loved Paige so much.  I begged Jay and finally he said yes.  I never told Jay about Vincent trying to hit Paige.  Jay told me later, if he had know that had happened, he would have never let him come back here. 

I told Vincent he could come back, but no alcohol.  I bought him beads to keep him busy.  I know that sounds condescending, but Vincent was a wonderful beadier and had been building regalia for years to support himself.  Vincent came back and made it 3 days with us.  He literally walked away.  He walked from my house, to the interstate, many miles away, and either caught a ride or walked back to his home more than an hour away. 

He showed back up a few days later, for his things.  Vincent, like many of Paige’s men, had a thing for me.  Many of her boyfriends, and I use that term loosely, thought Paige and I were a couple, and that they would get to fuck us both.  Vincent had proposed marriage to me at least twice.  I remained firm that I was happy where I was.  When he came to get his things, Paige was not here.  He hugged me a little too tight, and proposed to me again. 

I had been chopping vegetables when he came in.  When he left I grabbed a knife and ran and hid in the closet.  I flew into a panic attack and stayed in it, for what felt like hours. My pills did not help me that time.  I think I stayed in the closet until Paige found me like that, about two hours later.  Sorry my memory is a little fuzzy there.

In April of 2014, I would be robbed, proposed to twice and two old friends would come back into my life. Marie, you can read about her here in the last little bit, had messaged me on Facebook.  I had not seen her in a very long time.  I went to visit with her and when I came home, Paige was belligerent to me.  Telling me to get in the house and start doing house work.  She said, “I let you go and visit that woman.”  I was thinking, “Excuse me!  You let me!  Who the fuck do you think you are?”  but I said nothing as usual. 

Juno had messaged me a few days after Marie had, telling me I had been right about D & K all the time.  She said that she and Kay had a new home, they wanted to see me, and she was desperately sorry for what had happened between us.  I never expected that message.  I anxiously wanted to see her. 

When I got Juno’s message, I remember looking up from the phone at Paige and thinking, “I have my friends back now.  It’s time for you to leave bitch!”  The final straw came for me when one day she was mean to Tami.  Like I have told you before, you can do what you want to me, but when you start messing with friends, that’s it. I watched her fight with Tami.  I walked in the house to cool off and gather my thoughts.  I walked back out and let Paige have it.  I still don’t remember what I said to her.

Jay and I had no idea how to get her out of the house.  We knew she had nowhere to live, very little money, and that when she left there was a possibility she would take Jelly with her.  She and Jelly had become tight again, in the time she lived here.  I did not have the courage to tell her to get out, that I didn’t care what happened to her, and that she was not taking Jelly.  I wish to the Gods now I had.

Not long after our fight she began to date Dave, who worked in the café up the street.  The day after their first date he fell and broke his leg.  She came to me and said, “Dave fell and broke his leg.  I am going to go move in with him and take care of him.”  She did.  We called her soon after and said, we hoped the move would be permanent for her, and that she should come and get her stuff very soon.  She took Jelly with her. 

When Jay bought my new car in February of 2014 I had promised Paige my car. She had been driving it, for some time.  She had even started repairing it.  I saw Paige one more time, the day I sold her my car.  Jelly was I the back window.  It would be the last time I would ever see her.

Paige lived with Dave until September of 2014, when he threw her out.  She then went back to live with my parents.  They would spend over $3000 trying to help her out.   I was still not speaking to my mother at that time.  The whole time Jay had been begging me to go and get Jelly.  I said, “No.”  I was afraid of Paige that she would not give her back to us.  If she called the cops, I believed they would side with her.  Mom and Dad asked her to leave in December 2014.  She and I were still Facebook friends.  I got good and drunk one night, and told her what a bitch and what a slut she was.  I told her the only reason I was still friends with her on Facebook, was so I could keep tabs on Jelly.  She blocked me the next day.

Ten months later I have no idea where Paige is.  I have no idea if Jelly is alive or dead.  Many nights I kick myself.  I have no idea if Jelly is cold or hungry, no idea if she is being loved or has been passed off to someone else.  I wonder if she hates me?  If she goes to bed every night thinking her Momma gave her away?  Does she thinks she is bad or that she did something wrong?  I have no idea.  You have no idea how I weep for this child, or the guilt that consumes me because I would not fight for her.  I have finally had to give her to the Goddess.  I have begun lately to think of her as dead, and greave for her.  I have no way to tell her how sorry I am.  I may have to wait a lifetime, before I will ever find out what happened to her. I have tried to search for Paige on Facebook, so that I might poke around her page and check on Jelly.  But she seems to have left Facebook all together.  Even if I am not logged into Facebook I cannot find her. 

So you’ve got to be asking yourselves why does she telling me all these stories.  As I’ve written this timeline sequence I’ve asked myself the same thing.  I think I keep telling these tales not as a woe-is-me tale, but a warning to not be like me.  To stand up and fight for yourself, even if that means you might get knocked down by the consequences.  Mike, Mike D., Melinda, D and Paige, even Perro, all have taught me major lessons in life.  I think the biggest one is that you can’t save everyone.  You are not the Goddess!  It is not your job in life to take her place and try and save people.  My life has taught me, if you find someone you think you can help, DON’T!  You are impeding on the Goddesses work.  If you help them, they will never learn.  Yes you can save animals, you can save the rainforest, and you can save the earth, but you can’t save people.  They have to save themselves.  What you are trying to save them from is life lessons.  If the baby doesn’t fall, it never learns to walk.

I have always worn my heart on my sleeve.  I have had to learn to lock my heart away, and only let it out after a while.  With all of these people who have used me, you have to remember, I let them.  I have watched myself over the years go from being warm, bubby and gregarious to everyone I meet, to being slightly paranoid to meet anyone.  I have become hesitant of going out and slightly terrified crowds.  I have no idea if I make a new friend, when and if they will be the next to try and hurt me.  Everytime it happens, Jay and I sit in our little house and say, “Never again!  We will never help anyone else again!”

It sounds cruel, but you have to learn to protect yourself.  You don’t have to give away everything for your friends to like you.  They should like you for you, rich or poor.  If they don’t they are not worth your friendship.

Ilsa

Under her thumb

In December of 2013 Jay and I bought our food trailer, and started our business Garson Du Bayou.  It means Boys of the Bayou in French. We entered into a partnership with Jay’s BFF.  Paige could not stand him.  She basically hated anyone I loved. Paige was totally against the business.  She was not fond of Jay’s cooking.  Everyone loves Jay’s cooking.  I think Paige was just hell bent to destroy anything that was good in my life.  I wonder if her plan all along was to make me as miserable as she was?

We started cleaning out the food truck, and getting it ready.  We decided our first test run event would be Mardi Gras in February. The night before our first event Punka got sick.  She developed a huge bubble on the side of her face.  We took her into the Emergency Vet.  I pray you never have to go there.  After many hours they told us that they believed she had been bitten by something, and that is what had caused the swelling.  It was kind of odd, since she had not been outside that day.  She had been sleeping at my feet all day.  They told us if her condition changed to come in. 

The next day the swelling had moved to under her throat.  Paige offered to stay home with her, while we did our event.  The next morning I would move over Punka’s heart.  She could not drink water and she was having trouble breathing.  We rushed her back into the vet’s office.  We were told she was in congestive heart failure.  The bubble they thought was from a bit or sting, was actually fluid, and not it was impeding her heart function.  We left her there to see if her condition would improve.  In conversations with the Vet, we learned that this would be the end for Punka.  This problem would never go away and she might get a little better, but we would be coming back to this point again and again.  I could not let her live like that. 

I talked with the vet, with Paige, and with Jay, and we decided to put her down.  We went back to the Emergency Vet’s office and waited 3 hours, until we could be seen.  I almost lost my nerve several times.  Punka died in our arms on February 23^rd, 2014.  We buried her the next day in Holda’s Well.

I have a little sacred spot on my property right outside my bedroom.  When I raise up out of bed in the morning, it is the first thing I see.  We have a fountain and a bricked area. The old timers will tell you to make a spell strong you have to add a bit of yourself to it, so you use blood, spit or urine.  I had peed Punka at this spot one day and then me.  We had both given of ourselves, so it seemed like a good spot.  We used some scalloped edging corners to make a 2 x 2 square on the ground.  In the middle we put bricks with holes in them, so anything poured in this spot would go down to the ground.  We added dirt from a sacred Holda site in Pennsylvania.  I will go out and give Holda’s well offerings of alcohol, food, coffee, milk, whatever. Punka was my familure. When she died, I could think of no better offering to give Holda, then my fur child.  No better place for her to rest, but a place she and I had built together.  So we opened up Holda’s well, and laid Punka to rest in there.  Every morning her little grave is the first thing I see. 

 In early March 2014 Paige called me out.  She said, “Ten years ago you used to be feisty and vivacious!  What happened to you?”  I thought ten years ago I was in OA and working out.  I decided to go back.  I became abstinent very quickly, got off sugar, began to work out and lost 30lb.  I would gain it back as quickly as I lost it, and never lose another pound while I was in program.  I quit OA right before my one year anniversary.  After hearing one day in the rooms, the reason I was not losing weight was I was not close enough to my god.  If it works for you, that’s good.  I wish you luck.

Paige would get this attitude with me anytime I tried to go to a meeting or go workout.  She seemed to be jealousy of anything I did for myself.   She told me, don’t need to go work out at a gym.  You could lose weight by doing house work if you really tried. 

On my birthday Tami, and my friend Jenny held a birthday party for me.  Paige wanted me all to herself.  She was very jealous anytime I spent time with my other friends.  Tami and Jenny both offered to beat Paige up for me.  They were deadly serious.  They tried to convince me that Paige was controlling me.  My friends had told me, Jay had told me, but I was still fiercely loyal to her.  I felt she was helping me.  I was not listening to reason at that point.  I am blessed to have friends who so loved me and wanted what was best for me, even if I was under Paige’s thumb.  Tami said, “I just don’t like the way she talks to you.”

Tami was still living out here in Momma Muriel’s house at that time.  I told Paige that when Tami moved, she could move in.  Paige tried to convince me one day to give her the deed to Momma Muriel’s house, so that she could raise Tami’s rent to about $800 dollars.  I told her, “No.”  Oh Paige did not like that, but then she never liked it when I asserted myself to her.

Ilsa

 

 

Marijuana may not be the drug for me

In those 7 years that I did not speak to Paige, Jelly became my child.  She was loved and she was cherished.  She roamed these lands and hunted moles, her favorite thing.  She loved Prince and us.  She lived a happy life here.

I always wondered what happened to Paige.  I looked her up on Facebook one day.  It took me a while to find her, but eventually I did.  By that time, I had forgotten what she had been like, or why I had been so angry with her. 

When Barb suggested that I might be Bipolar I put out the word on Facebook that I would like to talk to others with a similar diagnosis.  Paige chimed in that she had the disease and would love to share her experience with me.  We talked real briefly on the phone one day, near the end of D & K’s stay with us.  She called me not long after they left, and told me she was staying in a motel in Bossier.  I thought I should go out and see her, and so Jelly and I went to visit her.  God’s help me I should have left her right there.  But I took pity on her and thought I’ve got a spare room, and some money.  Why don’t I try to make her life better?

I was still repainting Jay’s man cave, Juno and Kay’s old room.  I told her I need a few weeks to finish it, to buy a new bed, but after that would she like to move in. I felt I just could not leave her there.   By late October 2013 Paige moved in with me.  For 8 months she would turn my life upside down. 

Paige had been in Texas most of the last 7 years.  She had lived in Texarkana, been engaged, lost her house to foreclosure, been robbed, been homeless, been in jail once we think for drugs, and once for “abusing” her mom.  I am fuzzy on the details of her jail stays.  She told us she was diagnosed as Bipolar in jail, and taken to a 30 day treatment place.  By the time she came to us she was no longer on meds, and was convinced she did not need them. 

I let Paige do things in my home and on my property that I am not proud of.  She treated those closest to me like dirt.  She treated Jay like dirt, and one night would even turn me against Jay.  She freely admitted to me, in the end, that she was trying to break Jay and I up.  She came very close.  She told me every day how stupid he was, and I started chiming in with her.  Remember that part about me being malleable.  I often bend my will to others.  She believed Jay was verbally abusive to me, because some of the pet names we call each other.  She gave me commands and I followed them. For 8 months she basically sat on my front porch, smoked cigarettes I bought her, washed clothes, played with her phone, and found guys to fuck. 

We knew Paige loved Marijuana.  It was still illegal in the state of Louisiana at this time, still is as of this writing.  Jay hated this fact.  He was terrified we would get caught, get in trouble, and lose everything we owned.  I am grateful we never did.  We went round and round about this.  He wanted her out because of it, I begged him to let her stay, and because he loves me, he did. She smoked in her room, even after we told her not too.  I am allergic to cigarette smoke.  She would even smoke her weed inside on a rainy, cold or windy day.  She told me because she was paying rent, she should be allowed to do what she wanted in her room.

I told her I had always wanted to try Marijuana, to see what all the fuss was about.  But as I am allergic to smoke I could obviously not smoke it.  So we went to Texarkana and bought some hash from her middleman connection.  On Christmas Eve 2013 we made Marijuana brownies.  I had the first one and waited about an hour, nothing.  So I had another, nothing.  I snuck a third one.  They were after all good brownies.  I got up from the table, to go to the bathroom about the time the first one hit.  I collapsed in the doorway between my room and the bathroom.  I told Paige, “Strawberry.”  After some arguing she went and got Jay.  They both tried for the next 45 minutes to get me in bed, but I was a limp noodle, and you have to remember I’m a big girl so there was no lifting me.  I told them, “I forgot some witches, should not do drugs.”  Some believe since our minds are already open to magical forces, that we should not really tempt fate by putting ourselves in an altered state with drugs. 

I would trip for the next 9 hours.  My last real memory before I passed out for the first time was becoming possessed.  Jay had one arm, Paige had the other.  I was in front of my bedroom window.  I felt the spirit come through the window and into me, all the while I am screaming, “No!”  I was taken against my will.  As I have thought on how to tell you this story, these last few days, I have been reviewing the details.  I wonder now if I did not call for Holda in that state, and she came into me to protect me from what was going on.  I don’t know. 

I am not sure if I passed out at that point or not.  I do remember The Mother coming thru and her wanting to reach up and physically hurt Paige. I had some control at that point, and was able to restrain her.  I know she wanted to yell at Paige.  The only thing I remember her saying was, “I am ready to receive.”  Meaning she was ready to receive questions.  I know at one point she wanted to scream at Paige, “Christian get out of my house!”  I don’t remember anything after that.  At some point the spirits must have left me. 

I blacked in and out for the next few hours.  I cried, I laughed so hard I peed all over myself more than once. I thought I invented ham, and begged others to look at what I had created. I took off all my clothes.  I was paranoid.  I would come too and beg for them to get Tami or Barb.  Beg to be taken to the hospital.  I cried that I was a witch, alone and solitary.  I called Jay all manner of terrible things.  I’m still apologizing for that one.  I started screaming and crying that Jay had left me, when he was right beside me.  At some point I was given milk to make the trip, lessen or stop.  It didn’t help.  I started vomiting.  I climbed in the tub with my socks on.  I thought if I suddenly run outside naked, at least I would have something on my feet.  Tried out my Kung Fu moves when people tried to put clothes on me.  I came to at one point and Paige said, “I haven’t’ had a cigarette in hours.”  I said, “We better take advantage of it while we have it.” And I pushed her 300lb ass from the bathroom to the front door, about 50ft.  I blacked out again when I got to the front door.  Jay finally got tired and went to bed.  I woke up out of my last black out about midnight, sitting naked in my chair, vomiting and holding on to a trash can.  Having no idea what was going on.  Somewhere in here I took one of my panic pills.  I don’t know if that made it better or worse.  I know now that I had basically overdosed on Marijuana.  I didn’t know the effect was more intense when you eat it.  I didn’t know that the brownies take about an hour each to kick in. 

I would try Marijuana one more time while Paige was there.  I had one brownie.  I got hot, horney, hungry and sleepy.  I think now marijuana may just not be the drug for me.  I still think it should be legalized for both medicinal and recreational use.  But if you end up like me, you should not being driving heavy machinery, Okay! 

If you are a witch or other pagan, and do decide to try Marijuana for the first time, you might want there to be other trained witches or pagans around you.  Just in case something paranormal happens to you and you need someone to get you out of that situation.  Just FYI.

Ilsa

Meet Paige

I met Paige not long after I met Jay.  We would be friends on and off for about 12 years.  She and I would have a complex and turbulent relationship over the years.  Forgive me for jumping around, but this one is still so raw that I am having trouble trying to tell this story.

I met Paige in an OA meeting.  She was so beautiful, with her curly brown hair, her beautiful purple dress and this wonderful glow about her.  Paige asked me to be her sponsor.  I agreed.  I’d been in program for a while and never had a sponsee, although I had wanted one.  We went to coffee a few weeks later and she told me her secret.  She was glowing because she was 6 months pregnant.  She was trying to decide whether to give the baby up for adoption, or keep it. 

Paige had grown up rich.  As we say, her Daddy was in oil.  That since of entitlement and that nothing was ever good enough still permeates her being.  She like so many had left Louisiana for work in Texas.  She had gone to Cosmetology school in Austin, and then worked as a hair stylist in Dallas.  Her family would help her out for a long time, but ultimately they would cut her off.  I understand why now.  Paige didn’t just burn bridges, she fucking blew them up. 

I asked her one time, why her dad had never set her up.  I always thought that was odd.  She said, “Oh he did.  When I was about 21 he gave me a car, set me up in an apartment, helped me get my own salon.  I was making so much money I remember doing bricks of marijuania and lots of ecstasy.  I had so many friends back then.”  She never saw that she was using him, or that she was a self righteous princess.  My guess is she still doesn’t. 

Paige and I became very close, very fast.  She had an infectious laugh and exuded self confidence.  Paige’s father ran a little convenience store.  I asked if she could get me an interview with him.  She did, and after many months of looking for work, in April of 2003 I finally got a job with her dad. 

It was there that we would meet Jelly.  She was a beautiful, little half Pekinese and half Dachshund.  She was just a few weeks the first time I met her.  She belonged to the little lesbian couple, one of whom worked in our café.  They used to bring her in the store, and I would hide her in my shirt.  I would walk around with her, check people out and say, “No I haven’t seen Jelly!  I have no idea where she is!”  All the while she would be peaking out from the top of my shirt.  I loved her from the moment I saw her. Jelly’s original owners broke up and Paige acquired her. 

Paige and I had many adventures, while I worked at the store.  That summer Paige gave birth to a healthy baby boy.  He was adopted by a wonderfully, loving, gay couple from California.  Part of their arrangement was that they set her up in an apartment and they gave her a dog, she named Maggie.  I got a job with the state, and moved to Ebarb in October 2003.  Between the time I left and the time I got married in February 2004 Paige’s apartment burned. 

Jelly and Maggie were trapped inside.  Paige had gone to lunch, forgot her purse and came home.  She arrived to find the apartment on fire.  She yelled for Jelly and Maggie and they came to her.  We have no idea how long they were in there with the place on fire.  They were the only thing that survived the fire.  Jelly remained terrified of smoke, fire, smoke alarms, and loud noises for the rest of her life.  Loud noises would make her lose her whole little doggy mind.  So bad that Jay had to put his pager on vibrate.  The beeping would set her off.

Paige had become friendly with my family.  My mother, ever helpful for anyone who is not her family, came to her side, and suggested she move in with them.  When Jay and I married in Mom’s living room, Paige was my maid of honor.  She laughed threw the whole ceremony.  I asked her some years later, why she did that.  She said, “Because I thought you were so stupid for marrying Jay.  He is so stupid.”  She never expressed her hatred of Jay until she moved in with us.

Paige continued to be in my life, while we lived in Ebarb.  Even coming to stay the weekend with me one time, with a feller she had met on line and became engaged to.  Years later she would not even remember his name, or that she had ever been engaged to him.  Paige went thru men, like Kleenex.  A few weeks later she would not even remember their names.  In the 8 months she lived with me she would go thru about 20 or so men.  She would meet these guys on the internet, talk to them for a few days, swear she was in love and then start meeting up with them.  A few days later they would not meet her expectations or run and she would be crushed for a day or two.  Then she was right back at it.  She always had 2 or 3 dangling at the same time. 

Paige was such a part of my life, she was like my sister.  I don’t know who long she lived with Mom and Dad the first time.  At some point she got a little efficiency apartment, but she could not have dogs, so Maggie and Jelly lived with my parents.  Paige never offered to help them pay for their care, and never in all the years she lived with them, offered to pay them rent.

Paige could be awful stupid.  She loved marijuana, we knew that.  I remember being furious at her one time, because she had given all of her tax refund to this guy she was screwing, so he could go and get them some weed.  I think it was about $400.  He took off in her car.  When he didn’t come back after 24 hours, she called the cops.  She knew his first name, but not his last, nor did she know where he lived, despite saying how in love she was with him.  Typical Paige.  They finally found her car, but never the money.

In the Spring or Summer of 2006, she had left the efficiency apartment to go to Dallas, and take care of a sick friend who was dying.  When she came home a few months later she had no place to live.  So she moved back in with my parents for 3 months. 

By the Fall of 2006 my parents had had enough of her.  They asked her to leave.  I was so angry with my Mom when I found out, I threw her out of my house, and did not speak to her for months.  I told Paige we would take care of her dogs, for a while.  Maggie ran away while she was with us.  Paige found her at the local pound.  She was so pissed that Maggie had been spayed while she was there, and that she had to pay to get her out of the pound.  Maggie had just taken off down the road looking for her, one day.  We kept Maggie for a few more days while Paige found a place to stay in Texarkana, about an hour north of us.  Jelly would stay with us, until she could find more permanent housing. 

I would call Paige and check on her.  She would tell me how she was doing, and what new men were in her life.  They changed every few days it seemed.  She never once asked how Jelly was doing.  She never once offered to send me money for food, or medical care for her.  In October of 2006 I had had enough. 

I sent her an email and told her to forget us. I was pissed at her for never caring what was going on with Jelly. I told her that Jelly and Prince were in love.  They had always had a thing on the side, and I would not break them up.  I told her, “Don’t call, don’t write and don’t come home for Christmas.”  I would not hear from her again for seven years. 

Ilsa

 

 

 

 

 

 

Making Plans

Jay and I continued seeing each other, falling deeper and deeper in love.  He would steal away to my house whenever he could.  He would come for what we called, “sleepovers.”  I was not allowed to sleepover at his house.  While my mother in law loves me, she was not too keen on her unwed son having sex under her roof.  I had told my parents long ago at least if I have sex in the house, you know where I am.   I’m not out on a pipeline somewhere, or back in the woods where if something happens to me you can’t get to me.  My parents adored Jay, they still do.  When Mom would come to say goodnight to me, she would tuck Jay in bed first and then me.  I still think they like him better than me.  At some point my father told me, “If you ever decide to get a divorce from Jay, just walk right across the hall and take out a restraining order against me ‘cause I’m going to kill you.”

Now I had lost my job in the Summer of 2002 and I continued to look for work, any work for many months.  When you have a B.A. most people don’t want to hire you.  They think you will become bored with the job and leave as soon as they have invested all that time and money in training you, or your find something in your field.  They also don’t want to hire someone who has a lot of education and not as much work history.  Again a lot of men doing the hiring are intimidated by an intelligent woman. 

My Anthropology degree, while pretty on the wall, was not worth very much here.  North West Louisiana does not invest in science or preserving their history.  There were a few private museums here that were run by volunteers and only one was run by the state.  There are also no state historic sites here.  There was nothing here where one with my degree might make a living.  It’s kind of like having a marine biology degree while you are living in the middle of the desert.  My dreams of a higher degree had been dashed by my GRE results.  I was too stupid for graduate school, plus now I was in love and I did not want to leave him behind.  I took the civil service test and began to look for work with the state. 

About the time I meet Jay I had finally found a little job as a barista.  That job lasted a few weeks, before the owner told me they were having money trouble and would have to let me go.  They closed a few months later.  I had friend named Paige (who’s so twisted she deserves her own article and that I plan to write a little later) who’s father owned a convenience store.  I asked her to get me an interview with him.  She did and I was hired a few days later.  Even he was intimidated by the fact I came to the interview in business attire, with a resume in a nice folder for him, and had a degree.  He didn’t want to hire me at first because I had a degree.   He, like so many others, was afraid I would get bored and leave.  People like him sometimes forget that we all have to eat.  Paige had to explain I was just very professional.  I stayed almost 6 months, a lot longer than many of the people there. 

I got the word in September of 2003 that I would be a Park Ranger at Fort Jesup State Historic Site outside of Many, Louisiana. It was built in the 1820’s and had been used as a staging ground for troops in the Mexican American war. I was terrible excited that I would finally be able to put my degree to good use, and to make a living for myself.  It was an hour south of where I was living and an hour and half south of Jay.  For the first few weeks I commuted back and forth from Keatchie to Many.  But we knew this would never do.  I began to look for a place to live. 

I refused to leave Precious the first behind.  Would you leave your human children behind if they suddenly became inconvenient for you?  No she was my child, just because she had fur did not mean I got to cast her aside because a place to live would not allow pets.   

Precious the first had come to me in those years of writing the “Prodigal Daughter,” from a friend.  She was a beautiful black and tan Dachshund.  She had been rescued from the Bossier pound.  Her owner had been an elderly lady, who had died of a heart attack, a few weeks after Precious the first had delivered puppies.  The family had sold the puppies and took Precious the first to the pound.  The day my friend got her Precious the first was so engorged with milk that she had to ride home on a towel.  For years Precious the first would wake up screaming in her sleep.  I know she was dreaming of her pups.  Over the years she had become my trusted companion. No I was adamant she would come with me.  I would not leave her behind. After a few weeks I lamented to a co-worker the problem I was having trying to find a place for both of us.  He told me that he had a cousin who had a trailer that would allow pets.  I was overjoyed.

In October Precious the first and I moved into a little trailer in the tiny community of Belmont.  Jay came to visit when he could, but for the most part we were on our own.  It was the first time, other than living in the dorms in college I had ever lived on my own.  It could be exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, especially at night. 

I did not want Precious the first to be lonely while I was gone to work, so I decided I should get her a playmate.  I put a call into the Shreveport Pound and told them if they came across a Dachshund to give me a call.  They called three days later.  They told me they had picked up three doxies knocking over garbage cans to stay alive.  I told them I would take all three.  I happened to be on a date with Jay when we got the call.  By the time I ran to the bank and got out the cash, they had already adopted out two.  On the way there we had already decided on the name, Pumpkin.  No matter the color or the sex of the dog.  It was October you know.  I was calling everybody Pumpkin about that time. 

When we get to the pound we are led back to the kennels.  There sat the most beautiful, scared, little red Dachshund on a green bed.  They opened the door and I crawled in and laid on my back in submissive position.    She began to give me kisses.  I picked her up, proclaimed her Pumpkin, and gave her to Jay.  And so we add Abigail Pumpkin Plaisance to our family.  Pumpkin and Precious the first fought a lot in the early days, but at least they were company for each other. 

Jay and I had been together for about 10 months at that time.  We were engaged but had not set a date as of yet.  Our families were getting pretty tired of the fact we were sleeping together, but not married yet.  We decided to set a date.  We would marry the week after my birthday in March when the flowers would be in bloom, my favorite time of year.  I figure that in the coming years he might remember one of the two dates, since they are so close together.  He has never forgotten either. 

Now at this time in my life I am Christian but I am also still very interested in Native American Spirituality and Native American culture.  Jay is and has always been interested in their different cultures.  At this time I have even danced in a Pow-Wow, and have my own regalia.  Although it might be cliché and not politically correct Jay and I feel we have spent many lifetimes among the tribes. 

I am talking on the phone one night with Mary, a friend of mine.  I mention to her how I wish we could be married by a Medicine Man.  She asks me, “Isn’t Jerry Fairbanks a Medicine Man?  Can’t he marry you?”  I said I will find out.  Indeed my friend, who I have talked about before, is an Ojibwa Medicine Man and can legally marry Jay and I.  We are delighted!  We begin to make plans for our Ojibwa wedding.

When our family hears of this, they are not pleased.  They do not consider such a thing to be “legal,” their way of saying they don’t consider it to be correct.  I tell them if they want us married in the church then they will have to pay for it.  They say they will.  So we begin to plan for a church wedding as well.

Ilsa