As a tiny child, I was sometimes  angry and sometimes very content. I hated having to chew and swallow things such as meat or tablets. That choking heaving feeling welling up from the stomach and involving the throat  is horrible and when you are held down and force-fed for your good, well you just have to kick and fight, scream and cry. Worried parents know you need meat and certainly that you must take the tablets professionally prescribed by the doctor who knows far more about stuff than we do. But my hatred of chewing fatty meat lasted well into my teens and I probably won more battles than I lost. I did enjoy well-cooked liver, corn beef and sausages, though because they required no chewing. I had lots of colds and ear infections so my      determination must have cause Mum and Ad considerable emotional grief.

On other occasions, I was lying on the floor often near a door, on my back and kicking and screaming like the best of them. It just seemed to come upon me and I have absolutely no recollection of the cause of this anger and frustration. When an attack had subsided, they still seemed to love me and all went back to the peace and quiet of normality., 

I also carry memories of contentment and delight. Before bed, I just loved lying on the carpet by the fire with my beloved Judy dog. She was warm and we were so close and cosy together night after night. Sometimes, the smell of her singeing fir aroused us to a realisation that the bliss had run its course again. Thinking about it, I haven’t really grown up because even now late in the evening, I lie on the carpet with my lovely guide dog Quigley and relive that private close man with dog relationship before turning in. 

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