PTSD & Complex-PTSD Awareness

Hi. My name is Ginger. I’m from Canada, I’m 6-1/2 years old, and I’m a Golden Retriever. And I’m a very good girl (so they say).

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My all-time favorite thing to do is eating. I prefer pizza, but almost anything will do. I get to eat my own meals twice a day, for breakfast and dinner. Then when poppa eats, I get some of his food if I look cute and don’t beg. And I’m always cute! I don’t even have to try.

One time, long ago, in a far off land, I found the bag that all my food comes in. That was the best day ever! I ate 15 times more food than usual and I was still hungry. When Dad came back he wasn’t happy. Something about swelling in the stomach. We went to the vet, and can you believe it! They made me barf more than once. I tried to eat again afterward but wasn’t allowed.

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My second favorite thing is swimming. I’m very good at it. The BEST they say… Sometimes I can do it all day. When we are cycling it can be difficult to sit patiently until we reach our next swimming hole but I know all good things come to those who wait. When I’m finished swimming I’m extra tired and don’t like waiting for the tent to be set-up. But it’s warm inside and I have blankets. When Dad goes to sleep and as long as I’m dry, I can go in his sleeping bag. He says I snore but I don’t believe him!

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Once or twice a week we don’t cycle and it’s usually because there’s a house to sleep in. Houses are great because they are warm and have beds in them. I’m really good at finding the best spots.

Even better is when we stop in a forest and I can walk around and smell things. If it’s not too wet I take a break from smelling things to roll around in the leaves. But not too long, there’s always a Rabbit somewhere hiding in the woods.

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A couple of days ago, we met Sabrina. She’s cycling too. But I guess you already knew that. She scratches my tummy, so I know she likes me. She eats too much of her own food though. There’s usually nothing left for me.

 

I think she and Dad are having fun. They don’t chew sticks or smell things, but they laugh a lot. Then they say they’re not laughing at me. But I’m not sure. It’s okay though. I have a pretty good life.

By Ginger-Bella

http://www.VaticFoundation.com

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