Here We Go

Ok..we lived on Williamson St until I was appx 7. I am amazed I survived. My first memory, appx 2 was of a new puppy, a cute white puppy in a box. It wimpered and I worried as there was blood in the box. Its tail had recently been docked. The puppy was a female English Bulldog and she was named Vicky. We became quite good friends and even ate dog biscuits together. Yup...I was often hungry and Vicky was willing to share. Now, dont get me wrong we didnt live in poverty. There was plenty of food but for some reason I was often not allowed food and when I was allowed food I was treated with resentment and disdain. This was all at the hands of my mother. My father worked as a salesman and was only home on the weekend. My mother kept foods in the house that she enjoyed and sometines she would cook some of her favorites...cakes, bread crusts ( like a pie crust), deep-fried chicken gizzards, and etc. When she baked a cake it was a major affair. She would let my brother lick one of the beaters and she would have the other and then she would let him lick the bowl. If I asked for any I was told " you wont eat it, you wont like it". This was pretty much the answer for everything I wanted to eat. When my brother was still eating baby food I would get the pears and sit in the cabinet and eat them. Everyone thought this was funny and when I would share doggy biscuits with Vicky we would sit on the back porch and everyone thought that was funny. Once I snuck out a stick of butter and I hid and ate the whole thing. I guess that was funny too. I would even sneak my brothers bottle and drink the milk out of it. I remember a bright sunny day where I grabbed a hot dog out of the fridge and ate it in the back yard.
I wasnt allowed to play with the many kids in the neighborhood. I could play alone in the fenced backyard. The only time I was really around them was when my mother went to visit some of the other mothers or when she would babysit . Then I would see them play kick ball, ring around the rosy, and other games. I was quite mystified. I never really knew why I couldnt play with the other kids...I had a vague feeling something had happened..but what? I developed an imaginary friend named Rosy. This was funny, too. I would say I spent the day playing with her in the woods and if I did something wrong I would say Rosy did it. I also would speak of fairies flying around the ceiling light and I described three figures looking in the windows. I can remember them to this day. There were a few times I managed to get outside beyond the fence but the only memories I have about that are kind of ominous...like the time I played doctor with a kid and poked his naked butt cheek with a stick, or the time I went looking for evidence of witches by the creek, and the time I got in a weird argument with a kid and he went and got a butcher knife and I told him "come on I dont care if you kill me". If I could get out I would head for the creek. I loved it. There were little minnows swimming in it and I often fantazied that I could live there. The creek represented resources to live away from my mother...it told me that there was a world out there..that I only had to gain some abilities and knowledge and then I could be on my way.