Ruff month

It’s been about a month since we had to put my dog down and life at my house is quite different. My dad stills tries to not step on the dog every morning, her dog food bag is still in our kitchen, and every time I enter the house, I always want to yell “Rosie” but then I remember she isn’t there.

It’s been a weird month. She’s still my phone background and my friends still ask me how I’m doing. My mom, sister and I keep looking at new dogs but we know we can’t move on just yet. And even though my father insists he doesn’t want another dog, the words “Damn I miss that dog” slip out of his mouth every now and then. We actually have t pick up after ourselves when we eat, which I have definitely forgotten about, hence the three-day-old cucumber slice that fused to my kitchen floor.

The house is also quiet, silent even. There are no small barks and loud barks, no nails tapping against the tile, no scratching at the carpet, no lapping water from her water dish. It’s weird, and I feel alone. I’m at home quite a bit now that I’m not in school and basically I talked to my dog, walked my dog, slept with my dog, etc. The house is far too quiet for my liking, with or without the TV, with or without my bird, it’s still far too quiet.

My mom admitted that she wants another dog, however with me off to Peru in April for a month and then depending on where I end up at school (post on that later) it will depend on our future dog owing.

Basically, we all really want a dog, but we aren’t ready for one. Also, we have all (well my sister and I sort of agreed as we want another rott or a pitbull and neither of our parents want that) agreed that we want a smaller dog (smaller poop) but we just have to wait a bit.

However, all of our friends with dogs have said that if we want to steal their dog for a weekend or so, we are more than welcome to. So, while not having a dog of my own stinks, I am so thankful for people in my life who are trying to help us adjust with so dog as best we can.

So, if/when we get a new dog, you’ll all be the first to know, and until then, I’ll be crying over cute dogs on Instagram and leaving my friend’s houses with a tiny pup head popping out of my bag.


Silence. Quiet. Mute. Quietude. Still. Tranquility. Noiseless. Absence of sound.

Silence. This term is typically seen as unnerving. Why is this? Is it because our teachers silenced us when we were in trouble with a swift index finger to their lips? Or maybe because we have so much to say in such little time and we’re willing to keep noisy to let anyone and everyone hear what’s on our minds, no matter how pointless?

Society has coined the term ‘awkward silences’ to show our dismay for the state. Why is it that we need constant noise, constant interaction? Why can’t we appreciate those short spurts of quiet, alone, peace?

No children screeching in the distance, no barking animals and hissing cats. No hustle and bustle of people living. No constant buzz or bing of smart phones. No parents or friends trying to interrupt whatever it is I’m doing.

The idea of quiet, silence, scares some people. It liberates me. I love being able to curl up with a book, or a pen and paper,  sat on a sofa or chair, and the only noises I can hear are birds chirping, the current of the river, and me turning the pages as I delve deep into my novel.

I believe silence is necessary. Whether you’re alone or with people. To think, question, reflect. It’s a calming thing, silence is, and I think too many people take silence for granted.Alicia