Please Help Camie With Her Medical Care… She Is Sick Again

April 12, 2014… Saturday Precious Camo/Camie Update

Camie Went To The Vet Today….. Saturday … April 12, 2014


Precious Camo… Camie is sick again… please help us with her medical care.  You can either click on the widget on my blog:   or, donate directly to her vet, Dr. David Fontenot in Louisburg, NC by calling:  919-496-2638.


She has Demodectic mange that won’t get well without expensive medical care… also, skin infection. You can go to her Facebook page to keep up with her as I update daily (or at night).


When she goes to the vet, I post her invoices so, everyone can see where their money goes. Her Facebook page is:


Thank you for helping us last year when I rescued Camie from the cold, wet ground where she lay dying.  I hoped she would stay well… likely she’ll always have to battle this.


Thank-you from my heart.  Camie, and our Kissy, and Chadwick are mine, and Skip’s whole world. Tommy’s gone, they are all I have left.  Please help me get Camie well.


Below is the invoice for April 12, 2014, Saturday…. and her medicines.  I posted these on her Facebook, also








Today, I took Camie back to her vet, Dr. Fontenot. She is sick again… and needs ongoing medical care that we can’t afford.


Today… she was put back on antibiotics… given an Ivermectin injection. She will have to take these injections for some time. She can’t make it without medical care from the vet.


For the past two weeks, her hair has begun falling out… and sore places are appearing all over her body. Her skin stays red from the infection in her body, demodectic mange.


Camie is loved so very much by my husband and I…. and our other two dogs. She is part of our whole world. We wish that we were able to cover all the expense. We would never ask for anything for ourselves… but, we will to help our dogs. They are all we have in this world.


Please help us … help Camie. Please donate directly to her vet, Dr. Fontenot… or to this fund.


To donate directly to Camie’s medical care… to her vet, you can call or mail donations. This is the information:


Dr. David Fontenot

115 N. Church Street

Louisburg, NC 27549




Or… you can donate to this fund… it’ll all go to the same place. Thank you very much for caring, and donating. Below, you can read where I asked you for help to save Camie, when I rescued her on July 4, 2013.


I had hoped she could always be well… sadly, she’ll always have this. I stopped the donation campaign for several months to see how she did. Now, I have to begin it again. Today’s visit cost $184.00. Thankfully, there was still enough on her vet account to pay for this visit…. and leave $26.00.




I would like to thank each, and every person in advance for helping Camie. It means our world.


You can come be friends with Camie on her Facebook page at: I update it every day… and when she goes to the vet… I post photos of her invoices so, everyone can see where their hard-earned money goes… and how she is.


I post photos of her, and our other two Pups, Kissy Fairchild, and Sweet Chadwick. They love her very, very much.


Her Facebook page is where you can keep up with her, also. Thank you from my heart for your help. Gloria


I will be posting photos of how she looked last year.  I don’t want her to get like that ever again.  She suffered so much.  So, all through time… here on my blog… I will put photos of her on here… before, after.


She is beginning to lose her hair … a lot of it from her tail, feet during the last two medicinal baths.  Thank you again for helping me.


Enhanced by Zemanta

CAMIE’S ANGEL … My 3rd Published Book

CAMIE’S ANGEL    … My 3rd Published Book

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

(I am an unknown author… that’s okay… I know who I am.  Gloria Faye Brown Bates)

The photo above is Camie in her ‘Cozy House’ I made for her.  She was very sick with demodectic mange… my new book is about her… and her angel… the angels who followed behind her.


I want to share my happy news with all of my friends here, that I’ve met on Bubblews!


My book is ready to be sold, today.  I’m not trying to sell it here… I just want to share something that has made me so happy today!  :)))


It’s already an e-book on Amazon Kindle.  Below… tells about my book…


When it’s ready to be sold on, here is the link on my Amazon Author’s Page:


The e-book version went live on Amazon Kindle on Febrary 24, 2014, already.  :))))


I will post more about my book, later.  You can see the real Camie Pup on her own Facebook at:


Come be her friend… I update daily on her Facebook page.  :)))  Also, put photos on of her, her brother Kissy Fairchild, and Sweet Chadwick Elsworth.


Below is what I received this morning in an email… after resubmitting my work this week to get things right.  Finally!  Now, I can relax.  :)))  I’m so happy about this book… it’s my 3rd published book.


(I am an unknown author… not famous… I’m known only to myself and the ones who know me.  I’m just proud to have 3 books in print… to be here one day for my grandchildren ‘to find’ me.  No one else will be here to tell them about me, or … their father… Tommy).



Review Proof



Congratulations! You have completed the proofing step and your book is ready to be sold.


When will my title appear on the Sales Channels I’ve selected?

Books take 5-7 business days to be listed on Listings are built in stages; some parts of your title’s details may be available before the page is complete.


CreateSpace eStore

Your title is already available:

Give your thumbnail image up to five days to display.


Expanded Distribution Channel

If you’ve chosen the Expanded Distribution Channel for your book, it may take 6-8 weeks for your title to begin populating to the distribution outlets you’ve selected.





Enhanced by Zemanta

Do You Know The Power You Have As A Person?

Do You Know The Power You Have As A Person?
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I was thinking about the past, to a time when I last saw some of my ‘family’. Family on my father’s side…. I had been battling my own illness, been through two major surgeries, chemotherapy. I think back to the treatment I received from them.

I looked really, really ‘bad’. I had been diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma. I was deathly sick… I lost weight too fast, and my airway closed off until I couldn’t speak above a whisper.

The mass was on the outside of my lung, resting on my heart… closing off my bronchial tube. This went on until finally… I was diagnosed. At first, no one knew… until after many tests… I was dying. I could barely walk… I had entered the dark world.

I didn’t know anything, but… somehow, managed to walk on my own. That fighting spirit…. I spoke from the darkness I was in… Skip would talk to me, I couldn’t see him. I thought I ate, said I’d eaten… never knowing I hadn’t eaten anything.

Something wonderful happened… I didn’t know it. I’d lost probably 50 lbs. in a short time. I never knew it… nor got to appreciate it. Too sick. You know I’d been happy about that… if I had ‘known’. :)))

I don’t know of a lot of people who can look ‘beautiful’ when they are battling death to live life. Do you? Chemotherapy takes a lot out of a person…. side effects last for years, even to the day one dies. I know.

Your body is beaten down… you keep struggling to ‘get back up’ each time. You are knocked back down by death… to see if you have a fighting spirit to get back up. It happens time after time… until you become stronger, better.

And… if people are added to your battle… to make it worse… if you survive all that… you have become stronger. Oh, God… I made it… that was such a journey.

After surgeries that take your physical strength away… chemotherapy finishes up the job… you are lucky you can even walk… much less do what I did. I drove for two hours to go to my Grandmother Lola’s funeral. I was in a ‘bad’ way when I got there.

I just stopped for a moment to think about that. Skip wasn’t able to travel with me that day… he was on a trip.

I was all alone, not used to going out by myself. It’s strange… no one there at my ‘family’s gathering’… seemed to notice, care. Of course, ‘me being me’… I never complained. I never shared often how I was feeling, especially when I was ‘at my weakest’. I knew people treated ‘weak people’ bad…

It’s taken all these years until this very moment… to realize that. Not one person mentioned my illness, nor was glad to see me better. It was like they… didn’t know, or… acknowledge it. Whereas, I’d run, not walked… to their side to be there for them. To make sure they were okay, after ‘knowing’ they were fortunate to be alive.

I would have kept sensing them… to ‘try to feel’ if they were alright. I would have been… kind. I would have been … protective. It’s ‘my nature’ to be like that… I don’t care who, or how someone looks… I will protect … if possible.

No one cared… no one cared. I sit here in amazement… as I see all of them in my mind’s eye. I look at ‘each one of them’… I smile a sad smile now. But… I just thought of something else… ‘it’s my fault’.

Yes… it’s my fault… ‘I didn’t tell them I was so sick, the trip had been hard on me’… that day. I didn’t tell anyone that I was worried about driving 2 hours on the busy interstate, to get back home after the funeral. I didn’t tell them I was afraid. There wasn’t any one person, I could have asked for help from.

I know ‘several of you’ who were there that day… are reading my life stories. I remember ‘you, and you… and you… and you’….. and how you treated me at the most worst time in my life. You know that saying…. something about … ‘I wouldn’t care if you were dying’… well, ‘you all’ taught me the true meaning of that saying. Thank-you.

I really mean that… it just added to the things that ‘I know how they feel’… ‘I’ve been there, done that’, sort of thing. The good thing is… I don’t hate you, and you, and ‘you’ who are reading this ‘now’. I honestly don’t.

You thought I was a ‘goner’, and I’d never live to remember it. I do remember… but, I don’t have hard feelings toward you. I would never say, ‘do you remember when’? I wouldn’t have to, because… of course, you do.

You may just find out how it feels from your ‘families’ when you become weak in your older life… I do believe in people knowing how it feels to be treated the way they treat people, especially at a time that person’s fought to live, and that person loved you, was glad to see you… you turned your back on them.

And… laughed, made fun of them? Because …of how they looked? That’s ‘why’…. Camie, the little puppy I rescued… was ‘thrown away’… that’s why she was ‘left to die’… she didn’t look good enough, she was too sick. I didn’t turn my back on her… I gathered her up in my arms… I didn’t know what I was going to do to save her… but, she ‘damn-well’ wasn’t going to die alone. I cared.

I promise that I remember probably every person who hurt me when they saw me… turned away, ran the opposite way…. when I was struggling, battling to live. I wouldn’t have ever run away from any of you… I would have come to you, let you know I cared, and was glad to see ‘you’.

I have to say that one older man that I always loved, respected through the years… shocked me when I was so sick… we were in the supermarket. He didn’t see Skip… I’d turned the corner… when he saw me, he began talking fast… I couldn’t understand him… he turned away, almost ran to get away.

There’s nothing stranger to see than, someone ‘acting completely out of character’. I stood there … stunned. What did he say? I feel pain… he ran away. It hurt me so much that I had to hold onto myself… when Skip came up, he asked me if I was okay. I told him I was just very weak… I couldn’t tell him. I was so embarrassed to be treated that way by someone we both liked, respected. I really felt… awful.

A couple years later, we learned that the older man had cancer… and he… died. I felt sad for him. I really liked him, I had always thought he liked me, too. Isn’t it ironic?

Same for the treacheous step-mother I told you about in a previous story… she had cancer… died within a couple of years after she did wrong. Isn’t it ironic?

I could name ‘more’ who had cancer… have died, since I was battling to live from my condition… and from how I was treated by … them. I cared for them; I loved them… if I had known, or seen them… I would have ran toward them. They wouldn’t have died being hurt by me… I would have.

Skip made me go with him to the supermarket, and places when I didn’t want people to see me… I was so sick. I had never been out in the public looking like I did. I had never seen myself look the way I did, when I looked in the mirror. I had always been dressed very nice, every hair in place… and ready to go anywhere. Looking the way I did… I lost every bit of pride I’d ever had.

You see, I did have a beautiful head of hair, long and curly. I loved my hair… I took pride in my big head of hair. I lost it to the chemotherapy medicines to save my life. I had to wear a wig, adding to the ‘look’ I was wearing.

Not only that… when it did grow back out to several inches long… I had to have surgery again… the cancer had returned to the inside of my other lung. I had chemotherapy again… I lost my hair for a second time. Can you imagine what this does to a young woman? She’s fighting for her life, people she loved… trusted turning their backs on her… and lose what we all treasure … her hair?

Skip didn’t want to leave me, when he had to go to the supermarket, stores… he wanted me to fight harder to live; wanted me to do the things I always loved to do. He wouldn’t ‘let me be’… he wouldn’t let me ‘just sit’ when I was too weak… he ‘meant for me to get well’.

Skip is my hero… he knew how to ‘invoke that fighting spirit’ … when it sagged. Guess what? I’m the same kind of person… Skip is. When he later became ill, diagnosed with colon cancer while caring for me… I meant to be well enough to care for him. I ‘had to become stronger’… and, I did.

I, also, ‘knew how to invoke that fighting spirit’. We ‘meant for each other to live’. We are here… now. :)))

When I went with Skip ‘out’… people I liked, cared about…. turned away from me. Why? Did they think they’d die… if they acknowledged me? People ‘used to love me when I was beautiful’… I learned what they’d do when seeing me when I was at ‘death’s door’.

Can you imagine the pain… grief added to my struggle? Did you know… all of ‘you’…. were God-fearing, ‘good’ people, ‘christian people’ who did this to me? I knew ‘each of you’, I knew the very churches you went to… I knew you were ‘supposed’ to be fine, upstanding citizens of the community with your ‘good’ selves.

You were good… I don’t doubt that at all. I wonder ‘what went wrong when you showed no compassion for someone who was deathly ill’? What in ‘your Bible’ told you ‘to turn away’?

I’ve sat many times trying to ‘put myself in your shoes’… to understand ‘why’ you did the way you did. ‘I swear, I just can’t figure it out’. I can’t do that to someone… I hope I never do that. I am a good person, who cares with her heart for both people, animals.

I’m not a ‘christian’ who goes to church to fool, pretend to others that I’m something I’m not. Don’t you get so tired of seeing this happen? I do get sick of it… I stay to myself, because I just simply can’t tolerate being around ‘false’ people. Be yourself… you’ll be happier being ‘true to yourself’… I promise. I am.

You went to your church, probably… that following Sunday… sat there with a sweet, little contented smile… thinking about ‘how good’ you’d been all week, forgetting …how you acted at the supermarket… maybe that didn’t ‘count’…..

Some years later, I would meet you at the supermarket, stores, I would see how uncomfortable you were… ‘you remembered how you treated a dying person’… now, you didn’t want to speak to a … person who won their battle to live. Aren’t you the ‘fine one’?

You have to be proud of yourself… you never had to feel a thing… nor see… you turned your backs, with your Godly selves. You didn’t waste your christian-comforting words on me… it would have been like snagging up on a limb underwater, when fishing. Too damn much trouble to get … free. There’s more fish to catch…

I don’t want to go to ‘your heaven’… at all. I don’t know of even… one real christian. If I did… that’s who I’d like to be associated with. No one is perfect… I don’t care who you are. I truly do… not believe… one person is ‘that perfect’. I really tried to be for several years out of my life… no matter how good I was… ‘I wasn’t good enough’…

Just because ‘you aren’t perfect’ doesn’t mean you treat people badly… especially when… they are at a point in life… a smile, even a kind word could make all the difference in them wanting to live… or to die. Think about that… with your christian selves… when you are sitting there in church thinking you are so… Godly.

Do you know the ‘power you have as a person’? Just moving your mouth in the tiniest of smiles, if you didn’t want to smile at all… can comfort someone without you realizing it.

You could even just ‘smile’ with your eyes, if you didn’t want to move your lips. You could barely ‘nod’ your head; barely ‘move your hand’… just at least acknowledge someone, especially when they are very sick. Did you know as a person… just doing only those little things… can bring ‘big’ comfort?

I realized I looked awful… in comparison with all my ‘family’ that day. I looked like ‘hell’. I knew I’d made a terrible mistake in coming to her funeral… I was being judged by my family members… and some of them were glad they finally had a chance to laugh, make fun of me. Why didn’t someone come to me, care?

On both sides of my ‘family’, no one cared. One brother that truly loved me, cared. My brother, Ricky… ‘Rick-Rick’. He and I, had the same mother… we never grew up together. No one knew he had a sister, and I… a brother… much less, a mother. No one grew up in the same home… together. No one could associate anyone with me to know… yes, I had ‘real family’. Just ‘not like their families’.

I remember once when I was so bad off… I barely opened my eyes at the hospital… I saw Rick-Rick with tears in his eyes standing at the foot of my bed… he was looking at me with such pain in his expression. I couldn’t speak to him… did he ever know I saw him? Did I ever tell him?

Sadly, my brother… Rick-Rick… died in 2007. He was the only family member who loved as I did… he loved me no matter what. I was the same way… no matter what. The love we felt for each other didn’t have anything with who, what we had in life… it was a true brother-sister love. That’s the only time in my life I ever experienced that… it was unconditional. I never-ever felt that with anyone else in my ‘family’… on either side.

I sat on the couch in my aunt’s beautiful home… everyone sat around. When I first got there, they looked me up, then… down. I smiled, my face already feeling numb from medicines… felt number, embarrassed. I shouldn’t have been there… I was no longer ‘good enough’. I looked too bad, too sick to have done anything about it… I did the best I could.

I pretended not to see my sisters, and their families laughing at me. They knew I’d been fighting for my life… I’d just come through battles they didn’t know exist. They never had an illness to knock them down to death’s door… When one would catch my eye… I would smile in a kind way… I saw ‘smirking’ in theirs.

It was how I ‘looked’. I’d been fighting for my life to get to the point I was at in life for so long. I was sitting there… being made fun of… laughed at. I looked at one of them… who was a stripper in a bar… ‘she’ was making fun of me… to her mother-in-law who……… I’ll never forget that. My sister was laughing at me… the one I truly loved as a child.

Strange enough that day… I saw three sisters. One was a sister who had the same mother I did… she did seem to care; she looked for me. She came to sit beside me… I will never forget that. It did mean a lot to me. She never knew the ‘other sisters’ I had… they all only ‘knew of each other’. At certain times in our lives… we’d all lived within … 4-5 miles from the other… in different homes.

I remember the expressions from my ‘family’… looking at her. Everyone thought they were ‘better’. The strange thing is… they really … weren’t better, not at all. She handled herself beautifully that day. I’m sure with her being healthy, not ill like I was… she had surely seen how ‘my family’ were doing.

More strange is… ‘they were all my family’, not her family at all. I have to write it this way… it’s a good thing I know all this… I would become confused! Just know this as you read… I don’t hate anyone, nor do I wish bad for them… I am just writing another ‘color’ in my life… a dark color.

So, no one has to judge anyone… you know, everyone is on a different plane in life… we do as we feel we must do… even, if we are making a mistake. Then… time goes by… and maybe we think about what we did… and we are sorry… only, it’s too late to go back to say that. No one knows where anyone is… and no one knows how the other will take them… and … all ‘that kind of stuff’.

Years go by… and those kind of things ‘become unimportant’… why? Because, as time goes by… lots of time… one is learning the ‘for-real’ important things in life. Those things from the past ‘no longer matter’. Sure, they aren’t forgotten… but, there comes a time when you think to yourself… ‘that’s okay, now… they did what they felt they needed to do… for whatever reason’.

When people have these kind of things happen in life… everyone tends to think ‘it’s the end of the world… relationship’. It’s really not… but, not many people ‘find their way back’ to see that. Be it pride, anger, pain… it prevents them from ‘going back to see’.

From all this, I look for my lesson learned… it’s that I’m amazed at the things that ‘almost killed me, destroyed me, hurt me’… I forgive people for. Those things that devastated me at one time or other in my life… no longer seem important.

I’ve let go a long time ago. I’m so glad… I don’t have ‘to grow old’ with ‘pure hate’ in my heart. It’s my nature to ‘hate, be angry’… it was ‘born in me’. But… somehow, I’ve escaped ‘that part of me’… I’m not like that at all… ‘even if I appear’ to be that way.

Of course, there are some people I’m never going to like… even the best person in the world… has ‘those people’. The main thing here is… to treat them with respect… be nice, get away from them as soon as possible. You don’t want them in your life, they aren’t ‘nice’ people. Don’t waste time with them… you know how they are.

Sitting there, at my aunt’s house, I fought the desire to just get up, leave. Drive back home, hide myself. I wasn’t strong enough for the world … yet. I didn’t know ‘my own family’ would become my enemy on my father’s side of the family. You wouldn’t believe… I didn’t. How sad I am when I think about all that… transpired. All I learned…

I will give them the credit they deserve for that day. They won… they succeeded in making me feel so little. I wasn’t the strong, beautiful young woman they remembered seeing. I sure didn’t appear to be ‘rich’, anymore. I know some of them were …glad.

You know… jealousy. Women are like that naturally… think about it… you might not let others know it… but, naturally if you are a woman, there’s someone you are jealous of… envy. Females… it’s a female ‘thing’.

I won’t even argue this with anyone… females are like this, no matter… how they hide it. Life is like that… and that’s the way it is. That’s right……

They had never seen me wearing such clothes as an adult. Hell, I probably didn’t know what I had on… myself. All I could think about was my grandmother had died… I loved her very much. I hadn’t long been at the door… that she entered, and I … ran away from. Death’s door… my grandmother was 100 years old.

I told you… you wouldn’t believe how bad I looked… imagine someone you love, coming back from death’s door… the only thing pretty about them is ‘that smile in their eyes’, the smile that says, ‘I’m so glad to be here, I made it, I’m glad to see you’!

Fighting spirit, I do have. I have more fighting spirit than… I have anything else. I was taught that well as a child. No one wanted me, on either side of my family. It’s made me feel the same way as an adult. I don’t really ‘want’ anyone that’s ‘family’… that’s a good way of staying in turmoil. I’m too private for that.

I only have a very few people in my life now… that I want. I learned my lesson well… strange enough, it took almost this long… to learn this particular lesson. Thank God, I have. I can’t bear the pain of loving so many people … I’ve been taught ‘over and over, and over’ how it feels to ‘lose everyone I truly loved’.

The pain, oh my God… the pure, pure pain of grieving. If you never experienced it ‘over and over’… there’s no way … you can understand. Especially when it seems in life… the only people dying are the ‘most important loved ones’ you ever had.

‘Now’… I want to be friends with everyone… but, I never want to be ‘close’ to anyone in my private life… never, never… never. If you get gone tomorrow… I’ve got to be ‘far enough back from loving you, as I can’… I can’t bear the pain… the knowledge that you… are gone.

Truthfully, even the distance I put there… doesn’t buffer the pain I feel in my heart. I love people who don’t love me back. When I say that… I can honestly say… it doesn’t matter. I don’t need their love… I just need how I feel inside… it feel right.

I hate people that I love… I don’t love people that I like. I was taught that as a little girl. It’s natural for me, but… probably not for you. You probably had the perfect childhood. I’m glad for you… you probably didn’t have to learn lessons the hard way… making your life more rewarding, easier… happier. It took me … longer to get here. :)))

The positive thing is… I turned out to be a ‘good’ person, too. Even if you don’t like me… or even if… you think ‘you’ are better. It doesn’t matter to ‘me’… life isn’t about wasting it on being liked by the wrong people. Life is about real things…

My fighting spirit makes some people like me, or not like me. Why?Because, they see a very sweet person in front of them… and you know how it is… eventually there are going to be the ones… who want to take advantage of a good person.

Their thinking is that … ‘hey , she’s too nice to be mean’. How many times have I encountered that in my life? People have even said after ‘trying to take advantage of me… pushed me too far’…. ‘but, I thought you were a nice person’!

They learned quickly… even a nice, good person …has limits. To be ‘good, nice’… doesn’t mean you have to do what ‘bad’ people want… or fall down on the ground and say… ‘walk on me’.

When I say ‘I don’t like ‘you’… I promise ‘you’ …. there’s good reason. If I don’t speak to you first, when meeting you… you can bet your ‘ass’ that you’ve done something negative to affect my life… and for the ‘time-being’… I DON’T like you. To get me to speak to you… you have to speak first. I might warm up to you… I might not. Depends…

Each person has power… no matter who we are. No matter if people appear to not care… they do. Doesn’t matter who you are… it does matter. Even the ‘lowest person on earth’ can make a person feel better… with just a nod, a wink… movement of their hand.. a tiny smile from their eyes… or mouth. Do you know the power you have as a person?



Kissy Tried To Fit In That Small Space… I’ve Never Seen Him Do That Before


Kissy was ‘hugging‘ Chadwick (our yellow Pup)… they slept that way for over an hour!  I’d never seen Kissy do this before…… September 19, 2013… Friday.




Kissy Tried To Fit In That Small Space…  I’ve Never Seen Him Do That Before

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee



Last night, I saw our Rottweiler named Kissy do something, I’d never seen him do before.  I was at my computer, happened to turn around to check on our Pups, to see where they were.  (We have three Pups… Kissy; and Chadwick, our yellow Pup; and Camie, the little blue merle Puppy I rescued).


I took a photo of what I saw… it was taken in the near dark with the flash on my Iphone.  Only the tv was on making light in the room.  Chadwick had went to sleep on the couch… and left only a very small place between his rump, and the arm of the couch.


Look at the photo… Kissy did his best to get up on the couch to sleep beside Chadwick.  Do you see how he only ‘fitted’ in that space ‘just so much’?  :)))  Does he look as if he is hugging Chadwick?


I was looking at them for the longest time.  They both slept soundly, never waking up as I took photos of them.  They stayed that way for over an hour.. only Kissy’s leg moved.


I was thinking Kissy was hugging Chadwick… because Chadwick ‘escaped’ yesterday… and ‘he might not have come back’.  I was thinking Kissy is so glad his brother came back safely.  Kissy tried to fit in that small space… I’ve never seen him do that before.




Ashes To Ashes… Dust To Dust; I Have To Remember Because… I Must

Ashes To Ashes… Dust To Dust; I Have To Remember Because… I Must (What 9-11 Means To Me)

Ashes To Ashes… Dust To Dust;  I Have To Remember Because… I Must            (What 9-11 Means To Me)
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

The Pups have eaten breakfast from their clean, stainless-steel bowls.  Kissy grabbed his milk bone from the treat bowl I put out for each of them.  He is laying on the carpet, chewing it… making a little crumbly mess.  I’ll vacuum it up in a little while… the main thing is that he enjoys it… that’s what treats are for.

Each Pup has 2 stainless-steel bowls that are washed before they have breakfast, and before their evening meal.  The first ‘big’ bowl is for their meal… the 2nd ‘smaller’  bowl is for a little extra dry food, and several treats.  The treats are usually a chew stick, and milk bones.  I put 2-3 treats there to last throughout the day.

I’m writing about the Pups… our Precious Pups… Kissy, Chadwick, and little Camie.  Little Camie is our little puppy I rescued… have been nursing back to health.  It’s a story all its own… that’s the new book I’m writing at present… Camie’s Angel.

Many people have befriended Camie on her Facebook page.  The link is: .  She has her own Followers, also.  They will know, recognize alot in my book about Camie.

I am writing about our Pups… only for this moment.  I am sitting here with such grief in my Heart.  No one looking at me would know how heavy… my heart is this morning.  I’ve been like this for several days… knowing how much the 9-11 events affects me.

I feel I could lay on the ground, and turn into pure tears… a long, flowing river of tears for the death, destruction of 9-11.  It breaks my heart… it hurts me to my very soul.  I could scream as loud as it would wrap around this world like a comforting blanket… the pain, the pain.  I can’t take this pain away for anyone.  I hurt for the thousands of people directly affected that day.

My tears flow down my cheeks, so much that my skin burns at this moment.  I just watched about the dogs that played such an important role in the 9-11 events… not only were they used for searching for survivors, the deceased.

They brought comfort to people who would begin smiling when they saw these dogs… they got comfort when they stopped for a moment to reach out… pet them.  My heart cries for the beauty of it… in such horrific circumstances.

I see all the destruction around … in the middle of it, a fireman squats to pet one of the dogs, smiles though his heart and mind are seeing things… no one should ever see.

I sit here watching the 9-11 documentaries… I cry inside.  You can’t hear me, but… somewhere on a different frequency… something’s bound to.  The emotion…

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust… comes to my mind.  What’s so strange is the very morning it happened… I was standing in front of the tv as I began to become aware of what was happening.  I couldn’t see through swollen eyes, hear for a numb mind… I had to peer closer in order to hear, see….

See, I was already in the most horrible shock of my life.  My mother had died on September 09, 2001, on a Sunday.  We had come home from Raleigh, NC.  We’d been shopping, and a strange thing happened while we were in Sam’s Club that Sunday.

My attention was caught by a beautiful ‘jar’ with a lid.  It was blue, and white… the design elegant.  Out of the blue… it came to my mind, it looks like an urn.  I blocked that thought out of my mind, put it in the shopping cart.  I wanted it to put on the counter; inside were Biscotti biscuits to enjoy with a cup of coffee.

We got home that evening… I walked past the telephone.  I saw the red light blinking, indicating there were messages to be heard.  I waited to put our purchases in place… the Biscotti jar on the counter.  ‘Urn’… came to my mind once again.  ‘Urn’….. I felt a little unease.  I went on to ignore the thought ‘urn’…

A little later, I was standing by the telephone in ‘pure shock’ at what I’d just heard.  I cried out for Skip… he didn’t hear me.  The shock had taken my voice down to a whisper.  Skip!  Skip!  Skip!  Please come, Skip!

He heard me, rushed into the room to me.  He saw my face, knew instantly something was very wrong.  I knew it was, too… but, I… didn’t know what.

I had pressed the button to play the messages… and the room filled with a sound that sounded as if it came from another world.  I recognized the sound as… being my mother’s voice… only I had never-ever heard her voice sound like that.  Mama!

The sound was bone-chilling.  It was a ‘keening’ sound that at first, I just couldn’t understand what it was.  The tone, the sound…. Mama!

I began pressing the button over, over… I could hear her trying to scream out, “Faye-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, please help me-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”!  I won’t go any farther here… I can’t.  I still have that cassette… I have hidden it from myself.  The pain …. I can’t bear the pain of listening.

When time went by, I connected dots… and there were things ‘not right’ about her death.  I won’t write about that … ever.  People have died… people are still living… they ‘know’.

Before I could call my Mom… the phone rang.  It was someone we thought of as a real friend… only to find out later… he never was from the beginning.

Secrets…. so, many secrets… walls… people who pretended to be other… than what they were.

Deceitful, lying… but, always smiling, kind, wonderful.  ‘GOOD’ people…….. when your back turns… a ‘whole other life is being played out’.  Walls… walls, I was never allowed to find the door to… to ‘see’.

Pain here… I’ve ‘come to a wall’ … I’m standing here mentally beating my head against it.  Let go, let go…. I ‘have seen’ on the other side through others’ actions, things they said… reactions… do you know, I really didn’t want to see.  Riddles, only more riddles for a story I … can’t tell.

He told me my mother died that evening… Skip!  Skip!  Skip!  Please help me, Skip!  Please help me!  September 09, 2001… Sunday evening….

A person dies on a Sunday evening… by Wednesday evening all her things are removed from the house.. her clothes taken out of the closet… they hung on one side of her husband’s clothes.

On the other side… only ‘the color purple’ … remained; hanging by his clothes.  ‘The Color Purple‘… the strange thing is… I still love the color… purple.

THOUGHTS… expressions on different people’s faces as they stood out on the front deck… frozen in shock… blood drops on a white Avon headband… the house was cleaned hurriedly… Mom’s things from beside her recliner moved, stuffed back… a whisper in my ear to get Mom’s handbag… I ask permission first from her husband.  Hearing the words from someone I loved, saying: ‘she’s dead, ain’t she, goddamn it’!  Deeper shock… I can’t function.  Did I really hear that …from…?  The list goes on, just as ‘jumbled up’ as the words in this paragraph… something’s wrong here.  Can’t think now… Mama!  “Faye-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!  Help-ppppp me-eeeeeeeee, Faye-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I can’t take this!  I’m going to die, my mama’s gone.  Mama!  Help me, Skip!  Help me!  I can’t bear this!  Hope for a moment, a phone rung… ‘she’s dead, ain’t she, goddamn it’!  I’m hopelessly lost once again… in darkness.

For the three years, until after my mother’s death, I had been battling cancer… non-Hodgkins lymphoma.  I had lived in darkness with the fear of dying… going through so many treatments, chemotherapy, tests, scans… my life was almost living at a hospital…

Not only that, more darkness came as I began to win my battle… Skip was diagnosed with colon cancer… he began going through his battle… still going through it when I learned my mother had died.

No end to the darkness… one thing after another.  I learned my favorite aunt, my father’s youngest sister… had died.  She died when if I’d been told, I’d never understood… I was so sick, myself.

A step-mother constantly calling… never calling before in my life… to monitor me… through Skip.  He was innocent of her motives… she won by telling my Grandmother… that I was dying.  That took care of my inheritance … my aunt had died… she couldn’t keep her promise of making sure… the doors were left open… and a wicked stepmother ‘stepped in’… smiling.

Ironically… after I got better… Skip got better… she began to get very sick.  She wouldn’t tell me what was wrong… we did go see her… took her out to eat at Golden Corral… she couldn’t eat even one bite.  Looking at her… she was so thin.

We suspected she had cancer… she never would tell us.  Being respectful… we didn’t pry in her life.  We never did… she entered our life… when we were weak.  Skip was so innocent… he thought she was genuinely concerned.  I was too sick to tell him… don’t trust that woman.

She won… I will never forget what my Grandmother told me just several months… before she died.  I’ll never forget how she looked down… my stepmother had fooled her.  No, her words will stay in my mind until the day … my last breath is drawn.

Strange enough… with all that’s happened in my life… I’ve never become bitter… I don’t hate.  I just ‘know’ what people will, can do if given the opportunity.  Think of how animals in Africa do… when another is weak… they become easy prey.  This is the thought that comes to my mind to describe.  What is the saying? Only the strong survive…

Another thought comes to my mind… a little 9 year old girl being watched as she goes too far out in the ocean… the other two little girls are stopped before ‘they go too far’.  What was the difference, all were only one year apart?  One was a step-child… insurance policy taken out at her birth… who cares, she’s not my child.  Riddles, more… riddles.

My life is full of them… you probably won’t ever hear the answer to … most of them.  You know… we all have to go to our deaths one day… and we all go with one secret, or other.  Even the person ‘who tells everything’ …will die with an untold secret.  Who would believe them, anyway… some are very hard to believe ever… happened.  I know…

Death… so much death in my life.  Grief… I’ve known such grief in my life.  I don’t feel sorry for myself… I don’t wallow in self-pity.  I smile… I go on.  You don’t have to be touched by my pain… I don’t share it with you.  It’s private… I don’t talk about it to you.

I ‘come here to write my pain’.  I make it into stories… if ‘you’ read it… you ‘choose to take your time’ to read it.  You can walk away, no excuses to leave… they are only words.

If you feel something… it’s because you let yourself do so.  If you do, you only feel ‘a small fraction’ of the pain inside me.  Aren’t you so glad… it isn’t you?  I am.  I’m strong… I’ve made it this far… everything is going to be alright.  I ‘know now’… that’s why I grew up in ‘Hell’… it was to prepare myself to ‘walk out of it’ on the paths I traveled in life… I made it when I thought … I wouldn’t.

What I’m looking forward to … now… are the good things in life.  It’s time, and I ‘feel’ that.  Time for both Skip and I, to know peace… and have a good life.  Skip is more deserving than I… he has worked the hardest of any man I’ve known… he has been stressed more than any man I’ve ever known.  It’s time for life to be good for him… he is truly deserving.  Skip is a truly good person.

I am meaner than Skip.  :)))  He is more kind than I.  He has more patience than I do.  I care as much as he does… but, I’m just meaner.  No matter how good I am, try to be… I’m still ‘meaner’.

I’m the one who has ‘hell burn inside me’… it was already burning when I was born.  Life events made it burn more, burn less.  I’ve tried to turn that ‘hell’ into a ‘fireplace’… one that will keep my heart warm, loving, caring.

I still feel ‘mean’, sometimes.  It’s a battle I will fight until the day I die.  I don’t want to be mean, I love being a good person.  When I say ‘mean’ … I don’t mean ‘hard-core’ mean.

I mean that I am sometimes short-tempered, I anger quickly.  I really try hard not to… it doesn’t make me feel good… ‘but, it’s there’.  Pain… pain in my body every remaining minute left of my life… the trade-off to live.  Pain… makes me ‘feel angry’… I never take medicine to relieve it.  Why?  I don’t want to be addicted to drugs in order to live.  I don’t want to clutter my mind, I want it to be clear.  I love to think.

Pain is the trigger that fuels the flames of anger.  I have to fight that all the time.  I could have not had these years if not for a trade-off in pain.  I love to live… I love to see the sunshine, feel the gentle breeze of the wind, feel the sand between my toes.  I love to hear birds singing, wind chimes ring… dogs bark… people talk, sing… I love the sound of water running… I ‘pure love’ life.

So… I’m going to do my best to smile through my pain… I’m sure not going to lay down and …. whine, cry, and sing ‘woe is me’.  Pain… I will fight you… and I’m going to win.  I have life to… live for.

I have written pain here of another kind… not just the physical pain.  I wrote mental pain of losing a precious person in my life.  I have a lot of regrets… there are things I wish I had done… knowledge came ‘too late’… to help my mother.

I wish during the 3 years I was so sick… my mind constantly in and out of darkness… my mind focused on just trying to get well… I wish I had been able to ‘know sooner’ what my mom was going through.  I was too sick… things happened.  I didn’t know… until too late.  Just as I began to get better… Skip was diagnosed with cancer.  Isn’t it amazing… from May 1998… through 2002… all this happened… and more?

Our home burned down, claiming all our belongings December 28, 2004.  Another death… someone I cared about… someone who dearly loved my mother… was always there for her… who also, knew her secrets… talked to me… died several days after our home burned down.  A log truck hit her head-on, killing her.  I grew up with her in Hell… she was my 1st cousin… my sister as a child.

Soon after that, Skip almost died in a big truck crash in Moriarty, New Mexico.  Several weeks after that… a bank robber almost hit him in the side of his truck… fleeing from law enforcement.  Several weeks ‘after that’…….. a woman runs a stop sign in front of Skip… he hits her.  It seemed like one shock after the other… one after the other.  I’ve known shock so many, many times.

The strange thing is… the list goes on… so many more deaths.  People ‘I truly loved’… began dying.  Skip had escaped death three times… ‘things came out of the blue… almost took him’.

Everyone knew I would have fought for my mother.  Strange… remember what I said about the animals in Africa.  They wait until there is a weakness… then, they strike.  They devour their prey with tooth, and nail.  Yes, I know… more ‘riddles’.  Life is full of riddles… and sometimes, that’s the ‘only way’ …something can be told.  Only the sharpest person could know that… and then, it’d take ‘forever’ to learn … the story… some of my stories.

The man pulled the woman out… through the smoke.  She lay there coughing, she couldn’t breathe.  Tears come into my eyes… she almost died.  She’s a survivor, she made it through the 9-11 terror attack.  Her name was Sheila Moody.  My mind has gone back to my tv… I am sitting here remembering 9-11… a lot happened that day.

A lot happened in my life just before… and afterwards.  Mine was on an ‘individual scale’… 9-11 events were on a ‘mass scale’… oh, the loss of life, it breaks my very heart… my mama died, too.  It broke my heart.

Ashes to ashes… dust to dust.  I see dust, papers ‘raining in the wind’ as they fall from the twin towers… on tv.  So much life lost, wasted… gone.  My mama was gone, too.

Hate… pure hate… came out of the blue, no one knew.  Someone had their mind focused … while others didn’t know.

Animals in Africa… strike when no one’s looking, killing their prey.  They wait until the strong… is weak, unexpecting.

See… I can’t think about just 9-11 terror attack by itself… that morning… something awful had already occurred in my life.  My mother had just died… my thoughts are all jumbled up together.  Entangled is a better word.

My mind never did register the attack on the Pentagon, and the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania.  I find that strange… my mind took in the attack on the twin towers, the World Trade Center.

While I watched it later play out on tv… my mind screamed with the pain of the terror, panic, death… the horror… the destruction… it also, screamed at the loss of my mother.  I can’t separate the two in my mind… so, entangled both became… I can never think of one without the other.  Oh, the grief… oh, the grief.

My mind is filled… with many doors.  Each door opens to a different memory.  I call this in my mind … Memory Hall.  There are more doors that open to sadness… but, there are also, those ‘good’ doors.

‘Ashes to ashes … dust to dust’… this is the one thought that says it all… we went to pick my mother’s ashes up on 9-11-2001.  All the while in my mind… I could see the ‘ashes raining down’ from the sky… from what I saw on tv, before we left to go get them.

Ashes, dust…… this memory is just that.  A thought came to my mind… when our home burned down… my mother’s ashes were ‘burned’ again.  The container holds that scar to this day… where it sits in her Rose Chest.

Today I cry inside at not only the loss of my mother; for the loss of so many people that day.  I picked my mother’s ashes up… as I watched others fall … that day.  My words can’t even describe the grief I feel inside…


I Have To Remember… Because I Must
Written By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Grief in my heart… tears in my eyes
I think even God can hear my cries

So much death that day, grief fills my heart
That’s the day… families were torn apart

I just walked down my Memory Hall
Closing these doors, I can’t bear this at all

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
I have to remember, because… I must

No one should be forgotten in this event
What they went through, the day terror was sent

I don’t only cry for myself
I cry for the 9-11 families that are left

To carry their burden of grief, pain
Just as I carry mine… the same

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
I have to remember, because… I must


I Tucked You In… Precious Camie

I Tucked You In… Precious Camie
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee



She watched around her as she was led out of the door… through the chain-link gate.  She turned to look back… she didn’t want to leave.  No!  She wanted to stay home… she loved her home, and her family.

The door opened on the pickup truck… she was helped in.   Gentle hands touched, patted her head.  She sensed that no one wanted her to go anymore, than she wanted to go.

The door opened to the pickup truck… she got out.  By now, she knew the drill… she began to walk slowly up the brick drive, onto the slanted boardwalk.  They got to the wooden door… stood for several minutes talking while she waited.

They went through the door where they were greeted with cheerful voices.  She ran toward them… she recognized them!  She loved the people behind the voices.

Come on, Camie… let’s weigh you.  The nurse walked her onto the scale… Camie had lost 1 pound.

It was time for her to be left… she would have surgery sometime that morning.  Camie was going to be spayed… have her skin scrapings, bloodwork done.

We began to turn, walk out to the pickup truck.  Camie stopped, ran toward me.  My heart melted… I bent down to kiss her, tell her I’d be back to get her.  I turned, walked out the door… with tears in my eyes.

I loved Camie so much… I sneaked a peek at Skip… I saw what looked like tears… in his eyes.  He, as well as I, love our Pups… we want them home… we want all to be all right.

I waited for the phone call to come.  I expected it around lunch-time… I couldn’t wait to know how Camie did.  I was on pins and needles.  I got the call… Camie came through like a champ.  I was so happy.  Now, it was time to wait until the evening to go pick her up.

I drove to the Louisburg Veterinary Clinic to pick Camie up… she was due to be picked up at 4:30 pm.  I was much earlier… I was ready to get her.  I wouldn’t rest until I had her home!

I went in, talked with Dr. Fontenot, and his staff… Morgan and Pam.  I stood there, absorbing all I needed to know to give Camie all her medicines.  She had pain medicine; antibiotics, and she had Heartgard… and Certifect.  They were for heartworms, and for ticks, fleas.

Pam made Camie’s appointment to come back in 2 weeks.  I won’t bathe her until after her appointment.  Every week, I give Camie her very own ‘Camie Spa’… where I bathe her with her medicinal shampoo.  After the shampoo, I gently massage… dry her.  So, no more until after the next appointment.

Dr. Fontenot went over Camie’s bloodwork report.  Camie’s been bitten by a brown tick… her blood tested positive for Ehrlichia canis.  We’ll be talking about that soon.

Camie’s skin still hasn’t healed completely.  I worry … of course, I would.  I want her to be past all this, completely healed… no more medical problems.  I’m a little worried also, about her testing positive for Ehrlichia canis.  I want her to be well like our other two Pups, Kissy and Chadwick.  My mission is to make it happen.

I look to my left… there she lays.  I gave her pain medicine, it made her drowsy.  She got up on the couch, put her head on a pillow, went to sleep.  I got up, took her blanket… placed it over her to keep her comfortable, snuggly, warm.

I tucked you in… Precious Camie.


No Longer Does She Lay On A Cold, Wet Ground…


No Longer Does She Lay On A Cold,Wet Ground…
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Camie.. bed.. 7.30.13 002


A little frog hopped on the path leading to the pool of clear water
Lush grasses, cat tails, wildflowers grew at its edge
Dragonflies flitted here… flitted there
Butterflies landed on flowers, yellow and white
The pool sat surrounded in beauty, framed by nature

The sound of a woman’s voice could be heard in a distance
As she strolled down the path, her steps strong, sure
She knew exactly where she was going
To a rock that she had come to all through time
She grew older with this rock that shared her secret thoughts

The rock was big, shaped like a seat with a back
For the woman to place her pillow to sit on
She put the grass blade between her teeth
Raised her eyes toward the sky
To watch the clouds shift, change shapes

This time she came to the rock in happiness
To sit, think about… feel it deep down into her soul
She didn’t think about the last time she came
When her only child, her son… Tommy, died
The grief, pain would overwhelm her if she did

She thought of a little puppy she’d rescued
It lay dying on a cold, wet ground
All alone, close to people who knew she was there
They didn’t have the money to take her to a vet
So… all the little puppy could do… was to die

To get out of the way, because she was sick
Unsightly… who wanted a puppy with sores on her little body
No one could touch her for the fluids
That oozed, flowed out of her skin
So, let that little puppy die… no one hears it as it cries

The woman was aware that the puppy was alive
When she thought at first it was dead
She’d shed many tears over the puppy when it got gone
The puppy appeared to her for a moment, was gone again
It prompted her to look for it, found it… she did

Laying on that cold, wet ground near the woods
Children played close by, not going near her
At one time, they used to play with her, but …not now
In their minds, she was already gone
If not, there was a shotgun in the puppy’s near future

The woman wasn’t strong enough to carry her
It’s strange what a person’s body will do to save a dying soul
To rescue it from more grief, suffering and pain
The woman never gave her body another thought
She reached down for that puppy, pulled it’s little wet body to hers

She struggled to get it to her home, the weight became great
From the little puppy’s body… it couldn’t help itself
The woman prayed to God to give her strength
To get the puppy home… she’d crawl if she had to
Tears fell down her face, she didn’t know she was crying

Once she entered the gate to her home
She sighed a breath of relief… the puppy was protected now
It was up to her now… to save this little soul
Who had known nothing but, a hard way of life
The woman talked to the puppy as she put her in a bed

The bed was soft, and constantly changed throughout each day
Every moment the woman made was with pain
She’d pulled a muscle to save the little puppy
She didn’t care, even though she moaned at times
The little puppy’s needs came first… then, her pain

Time went by, care from the vet
Paid for by Camie’s Angel who began it all
Paved the ways for other angels to follow her lead
Created a miracle in little Camie, the puppy’s life
With prayers, positive thoughts, and donations

Camie began to blossom like a rose… a Camie Rose
From all the medical care, and love she received
She began to play with her two new brothers, Kissy and Chadwick
Eat good foods, her new Mommy prepared for her
She was safe, loved, cared for now

Camie is in a good home
She has quite some time to go before she is completely well
She’s in good hands now… Skip and Gloria’s hands
Along with her vet, Dr. David Fontenot, and his staff
And… all her Facebook Friends who love, follow her

Camie’s life was hard, she had no soft place to lay
Now… softness is all around her … she only has to choose her spot
Her life is good, the way it should be
The sun shines on her now, kisses her warm
No longer does she lay on a cold, wet ground… dying



Watch Camie… Blossom Into… Camie Rose

Watch Camie… Blossom Into… Camie Rose
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Camie.. bed.. 7.30.13 019


I haven’t written lately about Camie, the little puppy I rescued on July 4th. I do write, post photos of her every day… or night on her Facebook page.

I invite you to come, be friends with her. Watch her progress as she travels the path of wellness. Camie has been very sick. Her body has been open … her skin oozing blood, clear fluids.

She was like this when I found her dying on the cold, wet ground. Her medical condition was complicated by being left dying on that ground, in the rain… not able to eat, drink.

A lot of you remember the anguish I suffered when I missed seeing her come for her breakfast… supper. She didn’t come anymore to run up and down the fence playing with our Pups, Kissy and Chadwick.

For three days, I was under the impression she had died. I had spoken to a child who said she was almost dead. If she didn’t die, a shotgun would be brought home…..

No one will ever know the tears I cried over here. No one will ever know the shock, surprise when I saw her appear that day… when I went looking for her. I had no idea she was alive… but, when my eyes saw her… I didn’t waste a minute to find her.

I did find her, brought her home. Many people have donated money to her vet to give her medical care. One of our friends in another country… sent a large amount of money at the beginning to get Camie medical care. That started it all… Camie gets her medical care now, thanks to everyone who continuously donates to her vet.

If you care to donate… you are welcome to help. We wouldn’t have been able to afford the medical care she is receiving, will receive at least for the next 4 months to get her back to where she needs to be.
Her veterinarian is:

Dr. David Fontenot
115 N. Church Street
Louisburg, NC 27549

If anyone would like to donate, just call or write to the veterinarian. You can donate online at this link: Precious Camo (Camie)

Also, if you want to follow her progress; journey back to wellness… be a friend on her Facebook at:
You don’t have to donate money to be her friend. Do that only if you would like to. A lot of people ask for info on how to donate… this is how. :))) If it weren’t for Camie’s Angel, and these people… we wouldn’t have been able to get Camie the medical attention . Thank-you. Positive thoughts, prayers mean so much… I hope you will send them whenever you see Camie’s name… this is how miracles happen.

Everyday (or at nights) there are photos of her, her new brothers. You can read, and watch how she becomes beautiful. I’ve never seen her with her full coat of hair.

So… like you, I am excited to watch Camie become ‘Camie Rose’… blossom like a rose.

Note: I have begun writing a book about Camie named… ‘Camie’s Angel’.



My House Is In Order…

My House Is In Order…
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I’ve taken care of everything needed to be done.  I can relax now, because my mind is clear.  It’s time….
I have finally reached a point once again… where I am excited to write on my books.  I have two books I’m presently working on….. ‘The Saga Of Victoria Fairchild’…. and ‘Camie’s Angel‘.  I am beginning a 3rd book to work on in the meantime… a children’s coloring book with my drawings.
Camie’s Angel is the book I want to finish, publish first.  It’s a true story about the little puppy I rescued.  A special friend in another country took interest in her, cared about her… began the account at Camie’s vet, with a large sum of money.  This special friend renamed her from Camo… to Camie.
I’m really ready to write!  I’m excited now!  Tomorrow, I will begin fresh… I have everything ready.  :)))
The Saga of Victoria Fairchild is the fiction story I’m writing.  Victoria Fairchild is my main character.  This is book two… book one was a 62 page introductory to Victoria Fairchild.  This is the scary book I could never find… I want this book to be ‘very scary’, tense.
At the moment… Victoria is in the power of the serial killer she hunted long, hard for.  How will she get away from him… does she want to get away from him… he’s very handsome, always wears expensive cologne; he speaks well, not only that… he’s very sophisticated.
He uses up homeless people… discards them like a rumpled up piece of newspaper.  Victoria got away from him once… but, will she get away this time?
Victoria has secret lives… she has a closet for each.  The second closet holds all her ‘homeless possessions’ to use when she goes to the homeless world.  Victoria loves homeless people, animals… woe be into the one who mistreats either… and let Victoria find it out.
Victoria believes in an eye for an eye; tooth for a tooth.  She believes if someone mistreats a helpless, weak person or animal… they should suffer the same fate.
She likes to help dish that medicine out with a soft smile, soft voice.  Victoria is a unique person, with talents unlike the average woman.  Just don’t let her get mad at you… you will … go to hell.  She gives you three chances… she’s very nice all the while.
My coloring book is something I, also, look forward to doing.  It will have my drawings in it… my ‘doodles’ that I think adults, as well as children will enjoy.  You can ‘see into’ my doodles… see what I’m thinking about.  :)))  My coloring book will be… different.
So, now… I will get a good night’s rest, be ready to begin on all tomorrow with excitement in my heart.  I can look around me, see all in place, clean, organized… that makes me happy.
There’s no way I could have enjoyed doing this until…  my house was in order.


Information To Where To Donate To Camie’s (Precious Camo) Medical Care…

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Information To Where To Donate To Camie’s Medical Care…

Information To Where To Donate To Camie’s (Precious Camo) Medical Care:
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

This photo was taken yesterday when I bathed Camie in the special medicinal ‘shampoo’ for her skin.  I had a towel on my shoulder, she laid her head on it and snuggled up to me.  I felt the most special love for this little precious puppy.  She has Demodectic Mange… it’s really bad, not easily healed, cured.
Camie laid under her layers of warm towels after her medicinal bath… slept peacefully for almost an hour.  I was so thankful to see her do that.  She’s been shaking as if she were shaking water off her… indicating her skin is itching, hurting.  She cries out in pain… the other Pups, Skip and I run to her… it hurts our Hearts to hear her in pain.  This photo is taken when I took the towels off her very gently…
This is Camie under her towels… finally sleeping because the bath has made her skin feel better.  I let her sleep as long as she wanted to.  I made her …her own spa.  I call it ‘Camie’s Spa’… this is where I bathe her… on the porch where it’s very warm from the sun.  She lives inside with us… where she is comfortable.
Little Camie snuggled under her layer of warm towels.  She feels relief finally on her skin.
This is ‘Camie’s Spa’…. where she gets her bath with special shampoo in the large tub that has warm water in it.  She has to stand there for 15 minutes to let the ‘shampoo’ stay on her skin.  When I get her out, I layer warm towels around her body to comfort, warm, dry her.  I hold her close to me, gently pat her little body… tell her I love her so much.

Several people have asked me where they could donate to Camie’s medical care.  Below is the website… and the Facebook Page of Camie’s vet.  The information to call them is there. You can tell them it’s the puppy that Gloria Bates rescued, named Camie (Precious Camo).  Camie has Demodectic Mange.  They will accept your donation over the phone, put it on Camie’s account. Thank-you from my Heart for caring about Camie.  She has a long, hard road ahead to get well.  Thank-you for caring. Gloria/aka Granny Gee
Facebook Page: