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.




Something Bad Could Have Happened… Sweet Chadwick Escaped

Something Bad Could Have Happened… Sweet Chadwick Escaped

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee




He ran like the wind, he didn’t hear the voice calling him to please come back.  He ran toward the open field near by, stopped… turned to look back.


He saw her standing at the gate… he saw pain on her face.  He couldn’t stop… this was his chance!  He turned his back on her as he heard her cry again.  “Please come back, please come back”!


He ran toward the trees, down the bank… into the highway.  He could hear someone crying behind him.  Please come back, the woman cried.  He turned for a moment to look at her… no matter how much he loved her… the pull to run was too strong.


He ran down the side of the highway, into the front yard of their home.  He laid down on the grass, rolled… got up, ran to the highway.  He heard the woman cry out to him… he heard the sound of a car coming fast.  He didn’t know which way to go!


Just as he began to cross the road, he felt something push him back!  The woman saw him suddenly leave the road, saw his hair flattened out from the force of the wind.  The car never slowed down as it passed.


He soon forgot about the car… ran like the wind.  He ran all around, never leaving the sight of the woman.  Her shoulders fell, tears fell down her face.  She turned, went inside the gate…


She went into the house, opened the refrigerator, took a cooked hamburger patty out.  Outside, she went… she saw him.  She began talking to him, telling him she had something good for him.


He ran down the length of the fence, neared the gate.  He smelled the hamburger, followed it.  The gate opened just enough, he followed the hamburger until he was safely inside.


The woman looked at him… told him she shouldn’t even give him that hamburger for upsetting her like that.  She looked down into his face, smiled… looked up to the sky.  She thanked God that he was safe.


She looked around her, at the other two.  These three Pups, her husband… Skip, were her whole world.  She almost lost one of them, because she was careless at the gate to their fence.  She felt weak from relief, from being so grateful he was safely back inside.


Chadwick… Sweet Chadwick, the ‘Wick-Wick’, their yellow Pup had escaped for about ten minutes.  He ran like the wind, rolled in the grass, felt freedom for a short time.  He came back to his fence… he wanted to be home where he was loved, protected, cared for.  He wanted his family around him… he knew them.  He didn’t ‘know out here’.


Gloria leaned over, took his sweet face, kissed it.  The other two Pups, Camie and Kissy… ran to be kissed, too!  She kissed them all, hugged them, and thanked God they were safe.


Something bad could have happened… when Chadwick escaped.




I Don’t Want You To Know… You Might Not Be As Strong As I Am

I Don’t Want You To Know… You Might Not Be As Strong As I Am

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee




My son, my only child… Tommy, holding his little son.  I miss you, Son.  I was so proud of you.



You know how it is when you get busy doing something… your mind begins to wander here, there.  In just a short time, one can think a ‘million’ thoughts… about many different things.


My mind lingered on my new book I’m in the process of completing.  I’ve had to stop for a few days.  Chadwick, our Pup, had 2 seizures ‘out of the blue’.  My attention has been on him… I couldn’t concentrate on ‘writing words’.


I did go outside, on the porch… yesterday.  I painted while I was near the Pups, where I observed Chadwick.  I paid close attention to him.  He’s normal… he is the same Pup.  He has never appeared to be sick.


I’m thinking that what I read is… what’s wrong with him.  I ‘feel’ it’s low blood sugar.  He’s so active, moves very fast… he burns up calories quickly.  I looked back in my mind… both times, he and Camie (the little precious puppy I rescued) were running so fast around their yard… that I could hardly follow them with my eyes.  Are they secretly …gray hounds?  Race dogs


I know blood sugar can drop lower in a person when they exercise.  I feel that happened with Chadwick (we call him ‘Wick’ or ‘Wick-Wick’).  I have been making sure to give him a little snack every several hours between his main meals at breakfast, supper.


I began thinking about wiener roasts, toasting marshmallows, and hot chocolate.  Fall time, my most favorite season is upon us… it’s time to think about these things.


The strange thing is… I forgot to think about such things since Tommy died on May 29, 2010.  I thought about what I’ve forgotten to think about for 3 years.  Holidays are ‘one of them’.  I think that I can think about them this year… and ‘everything be alright’.


I have been so ‘lost’ until this past year.  I have been ‘finding myself’… things happen to knock me back down.  I keep getting up, dust my ass off (yes, I said that in defiance)… and ‘go it again’.  I’m not staying ‘down’.  I’ve come a long ways… I’m sure not ‘going back’… too dark, scary… too easy to become lost once more.


Can’t take that chance… have to keep my mind on the light, colors, life… now.  I have to hold on to these things with my very life.  I don’t have to hold so tightly now… because I know I can make it ‘now’.  I think I can relax my grip on life… some ‘now’.  I don’t want to go back to the … darkness.


I still go through such overwhelming periods of time, grieving for Tommy.  It consumes me, occupies my every thought…  I feel as if I’ll die, myself… it’s the very pain.  The intensity…  can make me have to lay down… it hurts that bad.


I keep telling myself, just bear with it… it’s going to be alright… just get past this… it’s going to be alright.  A lot of times, it gets alright in a short time.


It’s those times, when it takes… longer, that make me afraid.  That’s when I’m afraid… that’s when the pain is so raw, so ‘looming up in my mind like it has just happened’.  That’s when my chest feels it will explode, I feel as if my very soul is screaming.


That’s when it’s hard to live with myself… I have no place to go.  I can’t go get in the car, drive away… leave the pain behind.  I can’t simply walk off from it, and not feel, hear, know it.  It follows me my every waking moment.  I only find peace when I go to sleep… when my mind can’t think.


Though, I tell you this… I still know everything’s going to be alright.  I try to think of something to describe just a little to make you know how it feels.


Nothing I tell you can describe the grief for the loss of your child… you DO have to lose a child to know this pain… so, when I try to describe in mere words… know this.


Suppose you had to walk everyday to where you are going to.  You don’t have a choice… you are going to go whether you want to, or not.


Suppose there were things on your path that you ‘were going to face’ each day.  Bad things.  Maybe there’s a yard you have to walk by that has a very mean, angry dog… and it comes after you, follows you for a time, until it turns back.  It could get you any moment, shred you up in a ‘million’ pieces.


Sometimes, it draws blood.  The mean, angry dog grabs you, shakes you, bites you several times.  You fight like hell, manage to get away.  You’ve been wounded, yet… over time, you are going to be alright.


Each time you pass by that yard… depending on how much that mean, angry dog wants you… determines the severity of the pain he inflicts on you.  He could destroy you… but, only … if you allow it.


Grief is like this… only … worse.  It isn’t the same each time it ‘happens’.  Everyday… the ‘threat is there’… to get me.


When your mind begins to panic, thoughts going here, there non-stop… your stomach feels the trapped birds in a cage… pecking, screeching, fluttering their wings wildly to escape… the pain so great… you feel as if you’ll die from it all.


You HAVE GOT TO make yourself… your thoughts slow down.  No matter what, you have to do this… I never said it was easy… and I didn’t say it’ll work every time.


Slow down enough, so… you don’t become confused, forget where you are… because as sure as the sun shines… you are going to get lost in… grief.  You’ll get lost in the dark…


You can’t find your way back easily… if you ‘go too far’… you have to make yourself think, slow your thoughts down… to come back.  Otherwise… something bad’s going to happen.


Saying all that… is easy.  It doesn’t mean you can do it every time… you can’t.  In fact, sometimes… you can’t think … for the pain.  You do get lost in grief… I do get lost in grief.  I can’t think about things around me… they cease to exist for a time.


I am looking ‘inward’… I’m trying ‘to bring Tommy back’.  I’m wishing Tommy wasn’t gone… Tommy wasn’t………………. …………. can I say it?  I’m wishing Tommy wasn’t ….. dead.


Dead… my son is … dead.  I can say it right this moment.  I’m not … lost in grief.  Sometimes, I can be alright… and grieve at the same time.  Sometimes… I can say ‘that word’… dead.


Dead… dead… dead.  I made myself say it… I felt my eyes close, and I felt a bright flash of pure, white anger.  My son is … dead.  I see his face in mind… I do have stop, now.  Sometimes, one can push things too far…


‘Bittersweet’…  flavors of life… death.  It’s very painful, but… one can find beauty, specialness at the same time… but, only at times when it’s a ‘bittersweet’ time.


I won’t become lost in grief, today.  I can tell at this moment, I will be alright.  I did ‘feel mad’ for a brief moment.


See how my thoughts… turned to … grief for Tommy, my only child, my son?  This happens all the time… right in front of you… everywhere I go, no matter what I do.  You never know… unless you come ‘here’ to read it.  I never bother anyone with… my grief.


If you read about it… you choose to read, and leave quietly with thoughts of your own.  So.. no matter what, everything is alright… you can go back to your life… see, hear, enjoy your children… I smile for you.  I wouldn’t want you to know what I feel.  It’s already happened to me… I’m stronger now, for it happening.


No, I wouldn’t want you to experience this.  I’ve accepted I can’t change a thing.  I don’t want you to know this… since it’s already happened to me… let me be the only mother to know.


I’m going to be thinking about what could possibly be special, beautiful about death… about Tommy being gone.  What positive can I find in my heart about him being gone?  What have I learned from the death of my only child?


No more questions… you, no one can answer them for me.  I won’t waste my time asking ‘why?’  I may as well walk to the wall behind my desk… stand there, beat my head against it… I will never learn the answer to my ‘why?’.


Don’t tell me… if you really don’t know.  If you do know, ‘have been there’… I’ll listen.  Otherwise, don’t say anything… I don’t want to ‘not’ like you.  I’m not writing to just get comments.  This is … real life… the ‘bad’ part of it.


This is the part of life, ‘you’ don’t want to know.  Just read it, and be so grateful you don’t.  I’ll tell you so, you don’t have to experience to know.  I don’t want it to happen to you.  You might not be as strong as I am.





Grief is the threat of a thunderstorm happening anytime, day or night.  Written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

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.


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’.



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:

She’s Lived Her Hell On Earth…

She’s Lived Her Hell On Earth

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Precious Camo/Camie… Day 13 Update on her Progress…..


This morning Camie was taken to the animal hospital to stay most of today.  She is being treated for being very sick… she has been put on antibiotics, and the doctor will tell us this evening all he had to do.


We thought she’d be spayed, have her surgery this morning.  She isn’t well enough for that.  That will happen in two weeks.  For now… we have to get her little body strong enough, well enough for it.


Can you see in the photos above that she’s wondering what’s happen?  :)))  I took the cozy blanket off the top of her house; and put the door on the house to keep her inside for the ride to the animal hospital… and when she comes home.


I’ll take that door off her house when she gets home…. I would never cage her up in it… she has her own ‘hospital area’ I made for her. 


She can come in, out of her cozy house to get food, water… and I open it ‘big’ for her to go outside when she wants to go.  I open the back door, and stretch the fence to the door.  She has a safe fenced-in yard to go out in.


I wanted to thank ‘Camie’s Angel‘ who helped us to take care of Camie’s visit today.  It means the world to us.  She doesn’t want to be known… I respect that very much.  I’m so grateful from my Heart.  I have to acknowledge such kindness, generosity.  Thank-you.


Thank-you all for your special prayers, special thoughts for her.  She needs all of them; I’m so grateful.  Thank-you.


Well………. soon, it’ll be time to go get her, bring her home!  She’ll go back in two weeks to get her surgery to be spayed.


I wanted to update you all… Camie has many friends who are following her progress at:


Come follow, watch her progress… I rescued her from certain death… she was laying on the cold, wet ground dying… no one cared at all.  I will update later.  :)))  It’s time to get her in a few minutes!!!


Oh, she’s one of Our Pups now… she’s loved, fed well, cared for by her new family.  No more suffering for her… she’s lived her ‘hell on earth’.



While You Let A Little Puppy Lie On The Ground To Die…

While You Let A Little Puppy Lie On The Ground To Die Alone

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee






A little puppy lay at death’s door… no one cared

Children played near by, laughing… screaming

As the butterflies flew around the flowers near its head


She lay there thinking of the woman she went to visit

When she could run, play, bark

She could sense the woman was crying for her


Crying for her, thinking she was laying dead somewhere

Puppies can sense things… this puppy sensed she was needed

It sensed this woman was grieving for her…


She had to summon the strength to push her little body up

To go to the woman, let her know she wasn’t dead

She walked the distance to get to the woman’s house


The woman’s Pups came out barking, she came behind them

Saw this little puppy she loved so much… her mouth fell open

Camie, she cried… oh, Camie… you aren’t dead


The little puppy kept going back to the only place it knew to lay down

Back to where it laid once again on the cold, wet ground

Thinking if the woman didn’t find her… she’d just die


No one else wanted her, they let her go without food, water

So, she’d die… one person wanted her, the other wanted her gone

When fleas bit her, made her body sore… they didn’t like her anymore


Now… as the little puppy lay here on the ground, it was too late

Her body had lost its hair, skin red from the sun, she was ugly

No one could want her now… she heard voices coming her way


The children who played nearby were showing the woman the way

To where she lay… the little puppy saw tears in the woman’s eyes

Wondered if the tears were for her… could it be?


The woman said she was going to carry this puppy home with her

When she reached down to get her … her hands touched blood

And clear liquid… several maggots fell off


The woman asked the children if they had a towel, cloth

They couldn’t find anything to wrap around the little puppy

The woman said she’d carry her, get her to her house


She meant to carry the little puppy home while she had a chance

The woman wasn’t walking away without her, wasting another minute

She reached down, picked the little puppy up in her arms


The woman knew she was causing the puppy pain, it made her cry

She apologized, said she’d make it better

Please, God… help me carry this puppy home


Her weight is so heavy, please help me not to drop her

On the cold, wet ground… I pray I can get her home to care

For her, love her… nurse her back to health


Shame on those people who did such a thing to a baby puppy

Left her to die alone on the cold, wet ground

With butterflies flying over her… flowers growing near her head


Shame on people who neglect their pets, abuse them

The woman prayed they would know in their life how it felt

To have their hair gone, their skin in open sores


To feel how it feels to be abandoned, left to die alone

She knew this was a horrible thought… but, if one doesn’t

Know how it feels… they’ll keep right on


Abusing other little puppies, any children they might have

Shame on you, people… shame on you

Why didn’t you let this woman know you didn’t want this puppy


When you knew she was attached to it, loved it

Shame on you for keeping the puppy where it would die

After the woman spent money on medicine for it, put it on


Letting the puppy get in worse condition

Did you keep it penned up somewhere to let it weaken

Because that puppy didn’t get in that condition overnight


Not overnight when she’d was getting better

The woman’s heart cries because there was a period of three days

This puppy must have suffered horribly


Three days… when she could have had her

Those people knew she loved the little puppy

They knew she was trying to make her well, they gave her permission


Did they have an argument… the one who didn’t want the puppy

Winning, saying ‘get rid of it’

Is that what happened… Shame on you for not coming to the woman


Shame on you… this is the thought that constantly goes through

The woman’s mind … though she smiles at you politely

As you ask her if she’d carry you to town to get cigarettes


As you impose on her privacy, generosity

Shame on you for thinking the world is only about you

While you let a little puppy lie on the ground to die, all alone



Both Walked In Harmony; Both Walked In Pain…

Both Walked In Harmony; Both Walked In Pain…

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee





The photo above is of Skip and ‘his Big Boy’, named Kissy.  I put this photo here for some very special people to see… you know who you are… just recently we ‘met’… Welcome to my world … my precious Husband, Skip, and one of our Precious Pups.  Looking at this photo… my Heart, my lips smile… tears come to my eyes… the Love in my Heart could never be put into words……… for my world.





The man looked sick.  His face was red, flushed… he looked as if he had a fever.  He seemed to have a problem with his balance; one of knees appeared to be swollen.  This was a good place to come if one was sick.  You could tell he didn’t feel well at all.


By his side, a woman walked… her right hand holding her right side.  One could tell she hurt… she was in pain.  Husband and wife… both walked in harmony; both walked in pain. Each reflected the other… each mirror full of pain.



Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee…. the ‘old woman’……….. (only for right now!  :)))))))))))




Listening to both of them, one got the impression that they were embarrassed to have so much wrong with them… all at the same time.  So much so, they were laughing at themselves… joking about this is how it would be when they got ‘old’.


This was one time neither could go out in public… not able to hide the pain from anyone who happened to look.  They hoped no one was looking.  They were very private people… they had no one else but, each other.


They only shared something so personal with each other… so, when they had to leave the house like this… they did feel embarrassed; ashamed that they brought their pain ‘out into the world’.


The day before, they went to a small Chinese restaurant to eat lunch.  The wife got out of the truck to walk in with her husband.  When she did, she felt the most excruciating pain in her right side.


She stood there, tears rolled down her cheeks from such pain.  She told her husband she had made a mistake, shouldn’t have come… she hurt too bad to walk.  She… ‘she’ hurt too bad to walk!


She didn’t want anyone to see her… ‘walk old’.  Her husband told her to get back into the truck… he would drive her to the door.  She thought to herself… temporary, this is temporary… I’m not so old I can’t walk.


He drove her to the door, she got out, went inside to wait… there was a family sitting at a booth close by.  They stared at her as they watched her try to hide her pain… She felt embarrassed, she couldn’t stand up straight.  She felt humiliated.  She’d never felt like this before… she couldn’t stand up straight.


Of course, she glanced at the family sitting there… she felt she owed them an explanation as to ‘why’ she walked that way.  The man and woman looked blankly at her… she smiled, said ‘I have a pulled muscle‘.


Neither acknowledged her… sat there chewing their food.  She thought to herself, ‘I would have cared so much… I would have spoken a few words to be nice’.


Her husband parked the truck, walked through the parking lot, came inside.  He walked with a limp now; his right knee was ‘killing’him.


They laughed at themselves.  The woman told her husband that it was funny… here, she was moaning, groaning, her right side hurt where she’d pulled a muscle… there he was, very sick… now, his knee was hurting.


She said it was funny because this is how they’d look when one day they became ‘old’.  They were walking like ‘old’ people….. they both walked in harmony… they both walked in pain.