Tagged: eyes


(Photo courtesy of Apertome)

Ever since I could remember, I hated dogs.  I’m not sure how I felt about them when I was younger, but in my teens, a dog away from me was a good dog.

My mother inherited a dog when I was fourteen.  His named was Rex.  From day one, I hated the dog and he hated me.

He growled every time I passed him on my way out of the house.  And he barked when I returned.  Most nights he slept on the front porch.  Honestly, I think he did that to prevent me from coming in.  Stupid mutt.

The routine – I walked past, he cut his eyes and let out a low growl; I would do the same.  We understood each other.  There would never be any love lost between us.

One night, after two months of this routine, I passed him as he lay curled up on the porch – he didn’t growl.  Nope; he got up, left the porch and began following behind me as I rode away on my bike.

That dog…no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t chase him away.  I threw everything but the kitchen sink at him, he just wouldn’t go home.  So I jumped back on my bike and tried to outrun him.  He was way too fast.

When we got home Rex followed me up the steps and into the house.  I sat down to watch TV; there at my feet lay Rex.

From that night on, everywhere I went, Rex followed.  I soon gave up trying to sneak off without him – he was just too smart.

Every time I rode my bike, it was just me and my buddy, Rex.

One Saturday morning, Rex wasn’t sleeping by the front door or out on the front porch.

“Mama, where’s Rex?”

“He’s on the back porch.”

Sure enough, he was kinda sitting, kinda lying down.

“Come on boy, let’s go.”

He sat for a minute, turned those sad brown eyes at me and slowly crawled under the porch.

I called more times than I can remember, but he just wouldn’t come out.  Maybe he’s tired I thought.  So I let him be.  I rode off with my friends.

When I got home, Rex was still under the porch.

“Mama, Rex won’t come from under the porch.”

My mother’s eyes went soft. “Baby, I think Rex died.”

While I was out riding around, the dog I came to love died.  I will never forget that moment and I will never forget Rex.

For our GOOD FRIDAY, come back and read a heartfelt short story I penned and published for Rex.  For now, tell us your most heartwarming story about your four legged best friend.  And, as always, keep your head up.


You pursued her with unbridled passion. Your love burned endlessly. With a love only reserved for her you gazed into her eyes, and spoke so reassuringly, “I only have eyes for you.”    In that moment you could have asked for the world, and she would’ve given it. Instead she gave you more-she gave you her heart.

Throughout the advancing years, have you kept your promise? Is she still the only one you have eyes for? 

Job loved his wife so much he made this covenant with God: “I made a covenant with my eyes not to look with lust at a young woman.”

How many men today could make such a pledge? For that fact, how many women? Very few.

Imagine if one stolen lustful glance would blind you for the remainder of your life. I have seen many gorgeous women, but not one is worth my sight. I need my vision. I want to spend the rest of my life gazing on and lusting for my wife.

Truly, it’s a challenge not to let one’s eyes go astray. However, daily, I remind myself that I am an old raisin; what sense does it make for me to try to bundle up with a plump grape?

When I have a sexy, beautiful, mature, experienced, luscious, and intelligent raisin that’s raisin’ our children?


Hang with your wife, as you age you’ll be glad you did.

Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and forever, I only have eyes for you.

For our GOOD FRIDAY, let’s remind our someone special that we still, after all these years, only have eyes for them. Remember, this is for the young and old alike, male and female-this philosophy starts when you’re young. And come back on Friday and tell us your story in the comments below. And as always – keep your head up.