Josephine’s Journal, a newspaper
column published in The Overton County News in Livingston, Tennessee,
came about quite unexpectedly, and even though it may sound strange,
the fact that it happened came as complete surprise to me. It all
began at a time when our extended family included two dogs and five
cats, all of which, with the exception of one, were strays. One of the
dogs, Gypsy, lived with us for about 18 years, and during that time,
she led a quite pampered life in our home, not only because she was
such a lovable dog, but also because of the extreme abuse she suffered
wherever she lived before we took her in.
My writing career began when Gypsy became the victim of a senseless
and what I believe was an intentional shooting that took place on
December 15, 2001. She was laying on our front porch after going
outside to take care of her personal needs, when someone who had to be
standing across the street from our home, shot her. Thank goodness she
survived this vicious attack, which was the second time she had been
shot. I felt compelled that I must share Gypsy’s story for two
reasons. The first was that I know there are a lot of people who love
their pets as much as we do, and secondly, I also hoped that just
maybe the person or persons who did this terrible deed might read the
story.
When I took the story by the newspaper
to ask if it could be published, I was told that my name would need to
be included. I did not want my name to be included, and had almost
decided just to forget the whole thing, when Rebecca Meredith Oliver,
an employee at the newspaper, called to ask me if I might be able to
think a pen name the story could be printed under. Immediately the
name my younger brother, David McCormick, called me when we were
growing up popped in my mind - Josephine Bundaberry. That name was
used, and the story was published, for which there was a tremendous
and completely unexpected response. Thus began a regular column that
now includes sometimes historical stories of folks in and around the
town of Livingston and surrounding communities, and also stories about
ordinary people who might otherwise go unnoticed as they journey
through life.
Since beginning this hobby, I continue
to be amazed at the number of people of stop me on the street or call
me to let me know how much my stories are enjoyed. I am very
appreciative of this totally unexpected interest. It still angers me
to think about the senseless acts Gypsy endured, not once but twice,
all because of some thoughtless and uncaring person or persons.
However Josephine’s Journal came about from those two bad experiences,
and for that I’m thankful.
It still saddens me to say that after a
good, long life with us, Gypsy died on April 9, 2006. The last two or
three of those years, her health had been steadily declining. It has
gotten to the point she needed help in getting up, and just prior to
her death, we carried her in and out of the house most of the time.
The last day or two she lived, it was hard for her to stand for more
than a few minutes at a time. An agonizing decision to have her put to
sleep was made, and the veterinarian who looked after her all the
years she lived with us, Dr. Donald Ragland, came to our home to take
care of Gypsy one last time. His wife accompanied him for this task,
and their presence in our home made it a little easier to let Gypsy
go. We realize now that our reasons for keeping her alive as long as
we did were entirely selfish, and that we should have let her go much
sooner than we did. Just making the decision to say now is the time
was so hard to do. Gypsy is buried in our yard, a place she loved to
spend time in when her health was good. Just as Gypsy’s arrival into
our lives was unexpected, the same can be said about my writing, for
which Gypsy, along with her friend, Big Dog, get all the credit.
Although Gypsy is no longer with us, we will always love her and will
carry her memory in our hearts forever.
