Van Kyzar
Okay, so I have come up with a great name for a male character in my new story – Van Kyzar. The only problem is I can’t decide if the name is for the villain or the hero. I think of a strong, intelligent, and confident man, such as this picture. But that’s where you come in. I’m hoping that you will comment in the box below and tell me what you think – villain or hero, and any other attributes you think the name conveys. Thanks for your feedback!
Grief
Grief. Five letters. Such a simple little word that has such an emotional impact. This past Saturday we said goodbye to our beloved dog, Beastie. We rescued her nine years ago when she was two years old from an Alaskan Malamute rescue group. At eleven, she had lived a long life. She lived a dignified life. She lived a full life. Most of all, she lived a love-filled life.
I thought I was prepared. I knew I would be sad. I knew I would cry. A lot. I did not know that I would be hurt, in the physical sense, as my heart broke in the spiritual sense.
Beastie was MY girl. Never mind that my husband took care of her primary needs, feeding and watering her. She appreciated that, but it was me that she chose. I was the one she came to first thing every morning and I was the last person she saw before going to sleep every night. Going to bed last night was a gut punch and getting up this morning was a left hook to my heart all over again.
Time heals all wounds; I’ve heard it said. I suppose that’s true. In the coming days and months, I’ll get used to not having her head under my hand as I walk through the house, her by my side. I’ll get used to not having to “Beastie-proof” the house anymore, because she isn’t here to chew on random household items we leave out. I’ll get used to not having her nudge me as I’m blow-drying my hair in the morning, looking for her ear-scratches. But I will never forget the pawprints she has left on my broken heart.
