Stories from a Doll

By M.C.D.

Kathryn, a member of the greatest generation, once an assistant buyer for a major department store, an assistant fire chiefs wife, mother to a son and a daughter, a grandmother to four boys, a life long friend to many friends who knew her as Kay or Dolly is in her late seventies when, little by little, she finds her mind changing through a series of strokes beginning Christmas, 1986. Kathryn loses her ability to walk and speak all in that one December. Her daughter, an artist, who once worked in reading and dance therapy with brain damaged children, begins to see into her mothers darkness and finds an imaginary world of her mothers creation where both mother and daughter can find their way back to the Light and each other. As medicines change and therapies continue, Kathryn finds her brain healing through the things that have been consistent throughout her life, her love of God, people, and animals and a delightful humor to find out what in the world they all are thinking!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 27, 2010
• ISBN: 9781462823536

M.C.D.

Biography M.C.D. is an artist who has lived sixty years in Denver, Colorado, except for a year studying artin San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, Mexico. Coursework in English at the University of Denver and working with brain damaged children prepared M.C.D.to recognize the therapeutic value of her mother’s world of imagination. But nothing prepared M.C.D. for the brilliance of that world and it’s suggestion that we could communicate with God’s creation all around us.

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Copyright © 2010 by M.C.D.

Printed in the United States of America. All Rights reserved under International Copyright Law. Contents and/or cover or interior photographs may not be reproduced in whole or in any part in any form including the internet or other electronic media without the written consent of the author, her executors or assigns.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s mother’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Note: I used to write Mom’s stories in a huge art book. It had large blank pages where I could write Mom’s first impressions and dialogues on the left side, and then try to piece together the story she was telling me on the right side of the book. The story is almost always completed on the right-hand side of the page. I then would read the story back to Mom. She would then tell me, Yes, that is what I meant, or No, that wasn’t what I meant. I am pleased to share our adventure with the readers here and to open to their enjoyment this wonderful land and it’s animal characters that my mother shared with me during these, the last four years of her life.

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Contents

PROLOGUE

BOOK ONE

THE FIRST STORY

ALL ABOUT EASTER’S REVENGE

IT IS ANOTHER COUNTRY HEARD FROM

THE ANSWER

A POT OF GOLD, A LIBRARY, AND A LITTER OF PUPPIES

THE BEARDED MAN

FRIENDS, THE PLOT THICKENS

THE MEADOW

THE ARTIST’S STUDIO

THE SCHOOLHOUSE LAB

CAT’S FOLLY

MORE ABOUT THE SCHOOLHOUSE

HARP IN THE LIBRARY

CAT’S WISDOM

CAT IN THE HAY

OWL IN THE BARN

DOGGIE GEORGE’S REQUEST

BULL AND THE DRAGON FLIES HUM

SNAKE’S VISIT

CRAZY CAT

CUBES OF SUGAR

THE WEASEL FAMILY

DOGGIE GEORGE’S NIGHT SWIM

CAT’S CRITICISM

HORSE’S PATH

OMENS

THE DOLLY

HUSBAND’S PASSION

THE PIANO TEACHER

DOTTY’S TIME TO THINK

BULL’S HOME AND

WHAT HE SAW THERE

WEASEL’S FAMILY’S FOLLY

MOM’S STORY ABOUT RABBIT

DAD’S VISIT

OWL’S PERIL

OWL’S AND CAT’S FRIENDSHIP

CAT’S PAWS

WHAT THE DEER KNOW

THE LITTLE OLD LADY

MOLE AND THE WAY HE SPOKE

SQUIRREL AND OWL’S ROOF

A CAVE’S WISDOM

THE LAUNDRY

HORSE’S THOUGHT

MOLE’S THOUGHT

RABBITS AND SNAKE’S ADVENTURE

SYMPHONY OF THE SQUIRRELS

BLINDSIDED, NEVER SAW IT COMING

THE KITE

RABBIT’S LUCK

BOOK TWO

HORSE’S STABLE AND WOLF’S PERIL

OWL’S HOMECOMING

DONKEY’S UNDERSTANDING OF SOMETHING

CAT’S THOUGHTS ON THE TELEPHONE POLE

DEER IN THE LIBRARY

BLUE DOGS

DOTTY GREENDRESS’S APOLOGY

THE FOURTH RUMOR

DONKEY’S SLEEP

THE TRAIN

TWO PACKAGES

WHAT MOM SAID

APPEARANCES AND HAWK’S NEST

SUDDEN APPEARANCES

FENCES

ACROSS THE FOREST

THE END TO THE FOURTH RUMOR

SPACE AND TIME

CAT’S ADVENTURE

ROGER MOUSE AND THE BOXER’S GYM

RAVEN’S THOUGHTS

BOXER MOUSE’S WANDERINGS

GRANDMA MOUSE’S WISDOM

THE HUMAN’S HOTEL IN ONTARIO

CEDAR’S THOUGHTS

THE RED WINGED BLACK BIRD

THE BUZZARD

WREN’S FLIGHT

RAT, THE FAMOUS ACTOR

RED WING BLACKBIRD’S THOUGHTS

THE NIGHT CLERK

CENTER STAGE

RAT’S DREAM

BABY BOY

ROOSTER

MONK CHIPMUNK

LAZY BABY

MAMA OLSA AND SNOW, DRIFT AND SHERLOCK

ROOSTER’S STORY OF THE CRICKETS

PARROT AND LOGGER JIM

CROW’S CARD GAME

OTTER’S VISIT TO RAT

A DRUNKEN CROW

GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES DANCING

THE DAIRY FARM

LIZARD’S ANSWER TO CROW’S PROBLEM

HAWK’S FLIGHT HOME

THINGS YOU HEAR ABOUT THE WORLD

DOLL

THE BLACK CASTLE

THE ANIMAL BAND AND SNAKE’S MADCAP DANCE

STORY ABOUT A SANDAL

DEER’S REPORT

CAT’S BIRTHPLACE

MORE ABOUT BLACK CASTLE AND THE YOUNG CHILD’S HAND

THE CHILD AT THE FAIRGROUND

THE CHILD AT THE CAMPFIRE

SECRETS REVEALED

POINTS AND PUNS MOM MADE

BLACK OLIVES

LOOSE ENDS

MEMORY AND LOOSE ENDS

EPILOGUE

THE LAST CHANGES AND MOM’S PARTY

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

missing image file

Photo of Dolly’s husband, Walter at five years of age

This book is dedicated to Walter

In faith and memory, thus we sing,

            The memories of His love,

                        And thus anticipate by faith

                                    The heavenly feast above

                                                Thomas Cofferill

__________________________________________________________

STORIES FROM A DOLL

A memoir in stories of animals from

Dolly as told to her daughter,

M.C.D., from Christmas, 1986 to May, 1991

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An imaginary world of animals

revealed in a stroke victim’s soul

__________________________________________________________

Dolly

Born August 16, 1910

January 20, 1988

My mother was hospitalized in a nursing home, a year ago Christmas. Various mini-strokes impaired her speech and reasoning. Yet occasionally her wit and storytelling would emerge. I’ve written this book, at her nursing home, of those stories and jokes and thoughts as she spoke them.

Dolly’s daughter,

M. C. D.

COMMUNION

The Heart-Beat of the Church

In memory of the Saviour’s love,

We keep the sacred feast,

Where every humble, contrite heart

Is made a welcome guest.

By faith we take the bread of life

With which our souls are fed,

The cup in token of His blood

That was for sinners shed.

In faith and memory, thus we sing

The wonders of His love,

And thus anticipate by faith

The heavenly feast above.—Thomas Cofferill

PROLOGUE

Mom first began speaking of a black poodle, a large black poodle when certain medications given her for her strokes caused her fevers and hallucinations. It took a while for the staff to figure out what was going on, and once the medication was corrected Mom seemed relieved. Then one day quite out of the blue she continued to speak to me of many stories involving this large black poodle and even a few other animals. I’d worked years before in reading therapy with brain damaged children. Seeing Mom’s confusion, I revived some of my skills from those years and began asking questions. She seemed to know that her brain was healing itself, and sometimes the only vocabulary left her was of animals. So sometimes she’d speak and it would be about a real situation she was going through and I’d have to translate the vocabulary and take some action in her behalf such as finding a yellow sweater of hers lost in the laundry. But I also realized sometimes she was just inspired to tell me a story about this land she’d discovered.

Of course in every journey there is this first step, so this was Mom’s and mine.

Who does this black poodle belong to, Mom? I once asked after all therapy did nothing to stop her from speaking of this pup. He is Italian, Mom answered. Ok, who does this black Italian poodle belong to, Mom?

No, she would not answer that. But it was our first step for her to answer my one question. Clearly I was being called to respect the facts of this imaginary world all on their own. And it had its concerns for privacy and respect like anyone else. I came to understand that my questions must follow her answers. Yes, definitely, Mom’s answers would precede the questions. And the clues were all in the stories she’d tell.

The adventure begins with a story of a little boy buying a dog that had been chained up. The little boy’s story continues with the child’s version of a journey that some bearded elves made to a mountain to make a deal with a bear that guarded the gold in the mountain. Was the little boy’s story true?

BOOK ONE

HOW DOGGIE GEORGE GOT TO THE STARS IN THE NIGHT SKY AND HOW CAT GOT WISE

THE FIRST STORY

The Little Italian Dog Named Doggie George

Doggie George always wanted to go to the stars, Mom said. He was chained to a backyard chain. A little boy passed by and heard the little dog crying. The boy asked if he could have the dog but was told he couldn’t.

How did the little boy get the dog? I asked Mom. And did this help the little dog get to the stars in the night sky?

In the same neighborhood were some people going in deep, and they were getting something, Mom continued. Apparently a little boy was telling a friend about this.

What were they going deep into? I asked Mom. A mountain? A river? Were they getting gold?

The boy would tell you that they were bearded, white bearded elves going into a mountain, she said very mysteriously.

They were Santa’s elves?

No, no, they were pirate elves, and they had gold in the mountains. The little boy thinks if he could get some of that gold, he could buy the little Italian dog George and help him get to the stars in the night sky.

ALL ABOUT EASTER’S REVENGE

8:00 p.m.

That was all there was this night.

I told Mom how much fun we were going to have doing this. I then read to her the section Easter from her Words of Life book. She answered suddenly, Shhh, then we’ll show ’em.

Eh, revenge? I asked. Lots of people think stroke victims are boring. But just as God was resurrecting Mom’s ability to talk, God would someday resurrect mankind. After being made fun of for believing such a thing, I suppose we will feel some relief, There you see, it is true.

Yes, she answered. Then she looked lovingly at me and said, There’s my baby. Then she said, Oh, I guess not.

What? I asked.

Silence.

You don’t know? I asked.

I don’t know what I just said, Mom replied.

It’s your soul talking, Mom.

Yes, she said. I suppose so . . .

To our souls there is memory of God, maybe not always a memory of a daughter, nor what we just said.

The little boy’s name is Phillip, Mom said.

Phillip, I answered. And the more I heard of the little Italian dog, the more I wondered if in fact he were a Portuguese Waterdog, not Italian at all. I remember seeing what I thought was a black large poodle years ago, and I was told it was not a poodle but this breed of dog. In any case, I knew we’d return to this story later.

IT IS ANOTHER COUNTRY HEARD FROM

Dotty Greengown, Frog

January 23, 1988

This night Mom wanted to speak about a frog. The frog was sitting on a lily pad and she was afraid to hop to another lily pad. She just sat there and yelled, Help! Help!

Finally another frog came by who was a fighter (boxer) frog. He said, Aren’t you bored all alone on that lily pad, seeing no one, doing nothing?

My name is Dotty Greengown, Sir, said the frog sitting on the lily pad. I’ll have you know that I’m from a long line of the fastest hoppers, fastest farthest hoppers in the county. How dare you speak to me like that?

THE ANSWER

Fighter Frog, Frog

8:00 p.m.

Mom fell asleep before she could finish this story.

Then she briefly woke and added, Well, said Fighter Frog, I don’t know if I’m fast or far. I’m from the meadow around this pond. I enjoy the beautiful flowers in that field and the lovely stars above that meadow at night. I enjoy the whole day and some of the night just hopping all over that meadow, except when the rodents come and dig or a dog roams through to dig in the ground. Then I disappear.

And Fighter Frog went on and on about his adventures in the meadow, until Dotty Greengown Frog had fallen asleep on the lily pad, fallen into the water, and was beginning to drown. Fighter Frog, seeing this, jumped into the pond. Dotty Greengown Frog clung to Fighter Frog’s neck, and they swam back to the lily pad.

Fighter Frog then talked Dotty Greengown Frog into clinging to his back, clear back to the meadow. From then on Dotty Greengown Frog lived with Fighter Frog in the meadow. And many things changed for Dotty Greengown, as the meadow was quite unlike the pond.

A POT OF GOLD, A LIBRARY, AND A LITTER OF PUPPIES

January 24, 1988

How did the little boy get the gold from the elves to buy the dog tied to the stake? I asked Mom.

How did the little dog get to the stars in the night sky? Mom responded, never telling me anything very directly.

There was a bear in the mountains, she said, that nearly killed the little boy, or so the little boy said. The little boy said that he told the bear about the elves and the gold, and the bear let him live. But it was not because the bear cared about gold or elves that the bear let the little boy live. The little boy had promised the bear if he’d scare the elves the bear could have a secret pot of honey which the elves were keeping. The bear agreed.

I was getting impatient and began thinking on my own. Oh, the elves were scared away from the mountain of gold. The bear got the elves’ honey. And certainly bears don’t care about gold so the little boy got the gold and bought the little dog, Doggie George. Now the little boy and the dog were, very likely, asleep under the stars, very happy. But the little dog was looking up at the the stars and still yearning to go to them. Is that it, Mom?

As I’d made up a lot of this last plot myself, I read it to Mom and I asked her what she thought. She didn’t like some parts at all and sort of scowled at me. She wanted the boy and dog by a crackling fire. And a nickname for the fire was Snaps, Mom said, Snaps Fire. It seemed as if there was always a bit more to Mom’s stories than first met the eye.

The boy bought the dog then? I wondered.

The little boy puts his coat around the dog, Mom says, because it’s raining and the little dog is cold.

Mom tapped my hand four times.

Time goes by, Mom? Four months? I asked. The boy at least had the dog with him, so that must mean the boy bought the dog, right? How the boy bought the dog is, I suspect, anyone’s guess. Mom hadn’t lent a lot of credence to the little boy’s telling of his story.

Yes, she nods. Four months go by and the boy and the dog still don’t get to the stars in the night sky. Oh, look and see how beautiful a study, a library, there is in there, Mom suddenly said.

The little boy and his friend and the dog pass by the beautiful home one day. They look inside and see a beautiful library. They wish they could go inside, but they can’t. They are stretching up high and looking into a window, and they see a woman in a brown sweater and glasses. She is talking to someone.

What, honey? she calls to another room. What are you saying?

In that room a litter of puppies is about to be born. The lady and her husband are busy trying to get the puppies born. One little puppy is not right. He has one paw that’s hurt. The little dog Doggie George, looking in the window, and the little boy, Phillip, both think, I love that little puppy. The lady sees two boys at the window and calls another dog to come and scare them away. It is the puppies’ aunt that was raised with their mother at the Husband’s and Wife’s house.The aunt dog was always very protective of the puppies. It was this dog that scared Phillip and his friend and Doggie George away.

Later in Mom’s story some boy from a schoolhouse also finds gold. This same boy? I ask.

Maybe, Mom says as if it were a secret.

Then things got confusing as Mom talked further. At least I got confused. I suspect Mom was not confused and did not understand why I was having trouble understanding her. Mom said, I’m gonna go when you come back. I don’t know what you’re gonna do or what you must say. I must die, someone said that about the little injured puppy too.

Mom sometimes thought about dying. She felt for things dying. It would make me very sad and her stories all the more precious to me.

Oh, Husband told Wife to leave, that he’d be sure the disabled puppy would be gone when she got back, Mom then said.

He didn’t know what to do, Mom said, or what to say to his wife, but he knew the disabled puppy must die. He went to wash his hands from the birth of the other puppies. The little boy, Phillip, and the little dog, George, had returned by then and stolen the hurt puppy. They were running along the street and ran into a bearded man.

Don’t do that, said Bearded Man, Where are you boys going with that puppy?

Mom, did the bearded man take the hurt puppy? I asked.

I don’t think so. We’ll see. More secrets!

Later in the story Mom has a very bright funny cat, part of this household, and when the disabled puppy returns to watch the cat, it has an adventure with the cat. Mom was telling me this as if it were a preview of what was to be.

This man is later in the story also, she told me. I was writing as fast as I could and was trying not to get lost.

What kind of puppy is that? I asked, The breed . . . ?

Mom would not tell me.

Why it ‘goes’ anytime you tell it to ‘go.’ That’s a wonderful puppy, Mom said matter-of-factly.

Was someone gonna hurt it? I asked further mumbling under my breath, . . . it is trained to go outside anytime you tell it to . . . that is a wonderful puppy . . .

Oh no, they mustn’t, Mom said.

Why I’ll take care of this puppy. Why the little dog’s breed is my favorite. My dog was the same breed. Maybe they’ve the same grandaddy! says Bearded Man.

This is what Bearded Man says? I asked.

Yes, Mom says.

Is there anything left out, Mom, that I should consider? I asked.

Is there anything we left out? she said, Why, look at this.

Yes, look at this, I said. I was looking at all I’d written down of Mom’s words, and, yes, obviously she had left out a lot. Still, she seemed to know the story behind each mystery. In time maybe she’d tell me.

I see you, she said.

Mom sees, I said.

I go, she said.

When she sees the vision? I ask, missing her point.

But it doesn’t, she said.

The mouth doesn’t always move, eh? I asked.

Later I thought to myself that Mom was complaining that the staff at the nursing home doesn’t come into the room but once every two hours. It was hard to plan her bathroom needs or any needs, really. And it was especially difficult as Mom spoke in a very confused manner. A sad reality that we came to accept. Often I’d ask Mom, Mom, is this just part of your story on the animals, or is this something I can help you solve? Something that is in your reality here in the nursing home?

So often as in her stories, if Mom had the question, she already had the answer too. It was up to me to be patient and have her tell me.

Weren’t there two boys who looked in the library window? What happened to the second boy when Phillip stole the Disabled Dog? And how’d Phillip really pay for Doggie George?

THE BEARDED MAN

The man with the beard had an unusual mouth that curled up on the left. He raised chickens. The man knew what it was like to have a deformity, and he taught the little disabled dog to scare foxes away from the chicken coop.

Mom was tired then and wanted to sleep. She said, It was a good night, three pages of writing. But it doesn’t get you into heaven.

No, I said, It doesn’t, but God does, Jesus precisely, and you’ve got Jesus, Mom.

You don’t lie much? she said.

No, I said. I don’t.

You must! She insisted.

No, I said. You learned to lie all these years? I asked.

Yes, she said. Sometimes, and she looked at me very mischievously. It made me wonder what Mom was up to. I knew she’d met Jesus long ago, and that one of her pet peeves was little white lies. She just hated people to lie to her. And I was busy along with Dad preparing their home to rent to pay for their care. Dad too had gotten ill at the same Christmas Mom fell. Only Dad was having heart troubles that put him some of the time into a wheelchair.

Dad had asked me not to tell Mom just yet that we were renting their home, and that he was going to live with a caregiver from his church who had a wheelchair accessible home. Mom had been in therapy now for one year and it did not seem as if she could be on her own again in her own home, and Dad could not afford home health care for either Mom nor himself.

The doctors would not release my parents to my care, nor even one of them as we could not afford someone to help me. Dad could’ve lived with me, but I’d have not been allowed to leave him during the evening hours to go see Mom. And the doctors would not let Mom live with me because she needed round the clock care, and I was only one person. So I reasoned this might be why Mom was checking me out, Is someone lying to her about something? No, we just weren’t sure when to tell her. I knew however when the time came, I’d take Mom back to her home and let her see the changes.

Dad was preparing the place he was going to as well so Mom could visit him there whenever she wanted. No one was more the realist than Mom, and I knew she’d want to be part of each detail, and watch over us, making sure we took care of everything just as she would.

And no fibbing.

FRIENDS, THE PLOT THICKENS

Later in Mom’s story, the Bearded Man and his son, Charley, are friends with a biology teacher, a preacher and the preacher’s son, Phillip. Charley was the second boy, the one with Phillip when they looked in the library window. The little disabled dog follows Phillip, to school one day and steals a bone from a skeleton and has an adventure with a cat at the cat’s birthplace. This makes the second time Mom mentions this story, but still doesn’t tell it.

Then Mom rooted out what Dad and I had kept from her. I had to be back at her home on Marion Street, Mom and Dad’s home, by 8:30 p.m to help prepare it for renting over the next month or so. Usually I stayed with Mom until 10:00 p.m. or later. But this night I was anxious and had only so much time to get Mom to bed. A nurse’s aide was no where to be found.

Mom said to me, You want to go?

Yes, Dad had decided to rent their home to pay for their care. No, I did not want her to know, though in time she would know. Mom even visited