August 23, 2008. Me and Teddy.

Business As Usual...

My expat friend Sandy in Australia cannot tolerate her upstairs office these past few days.  It's too hot.  Mine is too cold lately for me to tolerate for long on these cool winter days/nights.  Same problem but in reverse  The result is that we have not had much time to play scrabble and we both miss it.

The problem these days is greater than just the weather.  She's been slaughtering me so I approach every game with trepidation.  I used to win about seventy-five percent of our games.  Now I'm lucky to win twenty-five percent.  Move over old dog!

And speaking of dogs, no, nothing has changed here.  We still call the PO collection site on Fridays and beg them to move our mail to a local post office where we may pick it up on Saturday and yesterday, THEY LOST OUR MAIL.  Allen went to pick it up and it was not there so we called and called and nobody seemed to have it.

A neighbor-friend's son writes articles for a number of local newspapers around here and he wants to write a story about our situation.  It's such an odd place to be.  I mean, can they really withhold our mail like this?  What about "through rain, sleet and dark of night the mail MUST go through?"   I'm sure I've slaughtered that quote, but you get my drift.

But right now I am gently shoving Webster's face in his dish trying to convince him to eat my latest ground turkey, green bean, wheat germ, cat vitamin and anchovey concoction.  The unusual addition was the wee bit of ground anchovey.  Have you ever met a cat who would not eat fish, cheese, egg?  We live with one.  I know him though.  I will wear him down before he wears me down.  Webster is a practical cat

Last day of the year coming up.  Just another day really.  I'm not going to make too much of it, but Happy New Year to you all anyway.

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Being Warm, Selfish and Lazy

It's been raining like crazy along the west coast of California but thankfully  - and by choice - we do not live on a steep hill so don't have to worry about sliding off like some.  It's just wet and yesterday, it was very windy.  Lots of broken tree limbs, plugged storm drains, saturated hillsides to worry folks. 

They sandbag the towns north and south of us and try their best to fortify the levys that protect homes here and there.  This is as bad as it gets and the storms don't typically last long.  It's nothing like a winter in Buffalo or Toronto!

We had to buy a mail box for our front porch so ventured out in this muck today.  It was not a good day to be in the mix, but we found a generic white metal box that looked decent enough.  A friend and I discussed painting the face of a Pomeranian on it with the opening being dog jaws, but maybe that would not be so smart.  Time to give it up and move on.

Yes, we are again getting mail, lots and lots of recyclable useless mail.  I glance, I toss.  What a waste.  There is one useful bit out of every twenty.  We did not miss much.

I sent a b-day card to Jean in Montana who turns 87 in a couple of days.  It was titled "your cat's daily affirmations".  It read:

     I'm lazy enough

     I'm selfish enough

     And if nobody likes me, what do I care

Made me laugh and remember why I am a cat person.

Stay warm.  Be as lazy and selfish as you need to be and just know that you're doing the best you can do...under the circumstances.

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The Article Published About Sadie's Big Mouth

Our neighbor's son submitted the article about our dog bite incident for publication and sent me a link to his working text the other day.  Today the article appeared in the S.F. Weekly but not with his working title.  The title they used was:

The Postman who Cried Woof

It's a cute read: http://www.sfweekly.com/2008-01-09/news/vicious-six-pound-dog-scares-the-shit-out-of-mailman-in-the-sunset/

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By Some Miracle

I let Webster out the back door this morning around 8:30.  I don't normally let him out early because he goes birding, but for some reason, I did not enforce this rule today.  Big mistake.  Big.

Within ten minutes he was at the back door with a bird in his mouth.  I opened the door and dragged him inside.  He dropped the bird.  Allen went around the other way to pick up the poor thing.

I was going to tell Allen not to throw the poor thing in the trash.  I think a little bird should be buried, but before I could get the words out, Allen was back inside empty handed.

The bird was alive.  The bird flew out of his hands and made it to a tree in an adjacent yard.  A miracle.

I have been thinking about this bird off and on all day today hoping hoping hoping, it did not take its last bit of energy and life to fly to that tree.  I want it to go back to the day to day of being a free bird.

So now it's back to house arrest for Mr. Webster.  He's just a very dangerous lump of a cat!

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When A Tiger Attacks

By now everyone around the world has heard about the Christmas Day incident where three young men were mauled by an escaped tiget at the S.F. zoo.  One man lost his young life.  It's been on my mind a lot since then as it has been on our local news nearly daily.

If you have no feel for animals you may think this is just a crazy act by a crazy animal, but that's not my take on things at all.  Tatiana , a young, fit Siberean tiger was provoked until she found a way out.  And when she was out, she tore into her provokers.

The two young men that survive, purchased a well-known , expensive, smarmy lawyer and they are not cooperating with the investigation.  And sadly, they will probably walk away with a settlement from our city which in my humble opinion, they do not deserve.

Pure speculation here.  Let's say it's Christmas day when nobody much is at the zoo.  Three young men who are clearly drunk and stoned (they did admit to this) are running around the nearly deserted zoo.  They decide to taunt the tiger.  Why not?  Nobody is looking. They dangle over the edge of the mote and throw things into the grotto which fires up the four-year old tiger.  She reaches for the stars and finds a way out.  Who is at fault here?

The memorial at the zoo was for the young man who died and for Tatiana the tiger.  This was a telling detail.  I think everyone knows this would not have happened if there had been no crazy human behavior. 

I lament the loss of the tiger. and if I were to meet the two young men that lived through Tatiana's attack, I'd personally like to finish where she left off. 

As for the S.F. zoo, it's got some problems.  It's an old-fashioned zoo and the animals are not kept in the best of circumstances.  Although there have been some improvements, it's not a "good" zoo yet and the cat enclosures are particularly troubling. 

This was a perfect storm and I am sorry it ended in the way it did.  It just feels so crappy.

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It Might As Well Be Spring!

For the first time in days and days, it's warm enough and dry enough to walk outside without a heavy coat.  I've been under house arrest here going squirrely with all the rain the the cold temps.  The heater was running like crazy this past week as I watched the rain soak everyone and everything. 

We're used to sunny bits between storms, but this year seems colder and wetter than most.  Allen asked me the other day, "does it seem colder to you this year?"  It does.  Our blood is too thin for these "high of forty-three" days.

Today I walked over to our new upscale doggie supply store just to have a destination after picking up a rx at the pharmacy a few blocks from here.  I bought Sadie a couple of beef tendon chewies and looked over the neat piles of doggie wear which included everything from pink argyle sweaters to yellow slicker raingear for dogs of all sizes.  It's definitely geared for small dog "nuts" like us but I wonder how well their business will do in this troubled economy.   

I got online earlier to buy some tickets for a show at our newest jazz club here and I wish I had not waited so long to get to it.  I had to settle for a Thursday night 10 pm show which is usually my bedtime.  The show is not until Feb 21 so I have time to rest up...:-)

With the exception of some ear congestion which I may just have to live with - decongestants are what I need and yet PH'ers are not suppose to take them at all - and I just hope they don't drag me down.  Found some folks online that think long-term use of the cpap / bipap might actually alter the shape of the ear canal over time which may be why I've got the problem now.  Seems logical to me there would be some side-effects associated with years and years of forcing air through the ear canal.  Now what to do?

I wrote to the nurse up at ucsf to get her advise.  My primary care doc said I needed decongestants, but to try Mucinex although she does not know if that will help at all.  Oh boy.  So far, the ears are still bugging me.

Allen is going out of town for 4 nights which puts me on dog and cat duty.  These days, this is not all that easy.  I'll be up early and back to bed.

I'm trying to get motivated here, but I just want it to be spring.  Cannot wait for spring so I have access to the park again.

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Heat

Our furnace would not turn over this morning.  It sounded like it was going to throw out heat, but then it just sputtered and stalled.  It was a mighty cold day here as days go, but it could have been worse.  At least it was dry and sunny.

Outside it was in the mid 40's and inside barely 6o.  Sixty degrees sounds reasonable but it is not cozy.  My hands were cold all day so I tried to keep busy.

I walked to the market to buy chicken thighs for Sadie and then I roasted them in the oven.  That raised the temp in the kitchen a bit.  Later, I started a big pot of black bean, sausage and sweet potato soup which helped heat the room once the chicken was cooked. 

It was nearly evening before we called in the professionals and a fifteen minute job - replacing the ignitor - landed us a $300.00 tab. 

If I had kids coming of age now, I'd be tempted to tell them not to bother with college.  Learn a trade or better still, own a company that services basic needs of homeowners and businesses. 

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A Little Flurry

My routine was broken this past week and it felt very good.  I had lunch with friends two weekdays in a row and this weekend we have been meeting with friends for dinners.  It's such an unusual burst of activity, it does not feel like my life at all!

Last night we drove thirty miles south to meet friends for a late dinner.  On the way there in the car, I felt a wave of weariness roll over me that almost made me tell Allen to turn the car around, but I decided to ignore it and hope for the very best.

By some miracle, the feeling did leave me as I started gabbing and enjoying the change of scenery.  We were still sitting in the restaurant at ten o'clock trying to make conversation over the rap music that by then was blasting through the cavernous room.  It seemed to get louder and louder as the clock hands moved forward.  Do you think it was their not so subtle way to say "We'll be closing soon.  Get out?" or was it just that forced party atmosphere many restaurants like to put forth.  Whatever it was, it was too much for us.

The meal was salty and I have a little extra weight this morning to deal with, but I'm glad I saw it through.  It was a nice evening.

It's business as usual again today and in the week ahead.  I will be a tired little hermit again putzing and dabbling my days away.

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If I Had Not Asked

In the fall of last year, one of my favorite butchers at the nearby market was fired.  No one would tell me what had happened, but I knew I would miss Mark.  He was a very friendly and helpful guy and I could not imagine what had happened.

Recently there have been a handful of fatal train incidents around here in which pedestrians were killed.  One neighbor asked me if I knew anything about one of them the other day.  She said the man who was killed worked at our market.

When I was at the checkout counter yesterday I inquired about the man who was killed and learned it was Mark.  It felt like a sucker-punch to the gut.

Diary, the accident was especially brutal.  The man, who had been running to catch a train at 9 p.m., was struck and dragged three blocks before the driver had a clue.  The scene was described as gruesome but the details were spared.  I cannot stop thinking about it.

I think this will stick with me for a long time.  I don't know why I've thought about Mark so much over the months and I am just shocked that he turned out to be the man whose life ended so tragically.  I almost wish I had not asked.

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Getting By

I was looking over at the little mug Michelle hand painted for me as a V-day gift as I chopped the vegetables for the potato, leek and fennel soup I was assembling on this cool, dreary day.  The mug has a likeness of Webster on one side with the words "Everything tastes better with cat hair in it" on the other.

When I called to ask how such a dog lover knew about cat hair as a food additive, Michelle said she knew this because everything tastes better with dog hair in it too.

Touche.

Today while I cooked, I visited with a neighbor-friend who had come to hang out.  Another neighbor-friend joined us for tea and the three of us piddled away much of the afternoon in idle yet pleasant conversation. 

There are few sparks flying these days.  It's just slow and steady going with a minor break in the routine now and then.  Pretty mundane.  I've lowered my expectations to the point where I am not even sure I am bored anymore.  Like the Danes who, according to the 60 Minutes news story last night, are very contented people, I don't aim too high.  That's the trick.  Maybe.

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So Sweet

I'm in no hurry to return our latest Netflix selection.  I watched the movie by myself Thursday afternoon and would not let Allen interrupt the ending.  Dinner had to wait until it was over.  On Friday afternoon, I watched it again this time with Allen.

Sweet Land is a quiet little film from 2005 about a woman in the 1920's who takes a boat from Europe to America to marry a man who has sent for her in Minnesota.  The two have never met and the photo she carries around is creased making his face not visible to her at all.  She has no idea who she will meet.  He's one of the Scandanavian farmers from a family that settled the area and he thinks he's getting a girl from the old country.  When she turns out to be German, everyone is in an uproar over it.  It's WWI and Germans are considered the enemy.  It's a rocky beginning.

But this movie is not at all about hardship.  It's about two people working through obstacles to have a life together and the film is filled with humor and quiet affection.  By the end, my eyes were moist but I had a big, fat smile plastered on my face.  Both times I watched it.

I don't find many movies that please me so much and I have no idea if anyone else I know would like it at all.  Allen gave it a 10 out of 10 and I gave it a 14.  Many others on imdb (the database for videophiles) gave it high marks.  It is just lovely.

This good feeling set the tone for our weekend.  We dodged the rain yesterday to get out of the house for a few hours and today we ran a few errands.  Rain rain rain here, but it's fine.  The little pot of Jonquils I enjoyed last year and then forgot about on the back deck, is ready to bloom again soon.  They will look lovely on our kitchen table and sweeten the air!

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Margot's House

The garage door of the last little single-family dwelling on the nearby commercial street was flung wide open today.  At first, I thought I might spy Margot sweeping up in front, but I quickly realized it was not business as usual.  Husky Spanish speaking men were dragging filled garbage cans from the open door and dumping the contents into a large truck.  It had the look of finality.

When I asked one of them if the owner of the property had died, I did not get much of an answer, but a fellow standing off to my left stepped forward to tell me Margot had passed away a year ago in the spring.  It had been a long time since I had seen her.

Margot was a mystery to me.  She always wore a scarf gypsy style and since she did not live in the little house, I did not see her very often.  Our paths had crossed when I was more active in our neighborhood politics and Margot had asked me for some advice.  After that, whenever I saw her sweeping up in front of the dilapidated little house, I would remind her who I was and say hello.  She would warm to me once she had placed me and we would have a little chat.

One day many years ago now, she told me her son Rob had died unexpectedly.  Rob must have been in his fifties and Margot said he was her best friend and now she had nothing to live for.  She kept the upstairs rooms intact as a shrine to Rob - something she asked me to keep to myself less someone break in - and never rented out any portion of the building.  The light in the upstairs window made it look like someone  (Rob?) was home, but no one was ever there. 

Another time, Margot invited me into her little garden.  She was very proud of her little green space and I have to say, it was amazing.  A few steps off a busy commercial street behind the little house was a tiny garden of Eden completely overgrown, but full of color and vibrancy.  And it was blissfully quiet back there which made it all the more surprising.

Margot seemed to know every plant in that garden and today when I was invited to see it one more time by the neighbor with whom I had begun to chat, I stepped back into that space.  It was a mistake.  The clean-up included the garden which was being ripped apart.  It felt sacreligious.

Surely the little house won't be left standing for long.  People don't last forever and shrines don't either.  And when there is a bland building there with commercial space on the ground floor, I won't forget the little house that stood there for over one hundred years or Margot the gypsy sweeper who kept the front so tidy.

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"Cheery" Blossoms

Everything is in blossom right now.  Michelle sent an email photo of the flowering almond tree in her back yard, our cymbidium has some new hopeful shoots, my Christmas cactus has budded out, and when we drove along the park this weekend, we noticed the usually bare limbs of the cherry trees had erupted into puffs of delicate pink   I was able to step out the door today for a walk with Sadie without grabbbing a sweater.  It's just plain cheerful around here!

I enjoyed a little sit down on the deck today in the warm sun as a story-teller described how a young dropout from veternary school comes to join a circus in the the audio version of the novel "Water for Elephants".  When the sun began to fade behing the neighbor's roof line, I moved inside to dabble here and listen to our local jazz station.  I've mastered the art of being idle at this point.  So much to do, so much time!  :-)

Yesterday, we carried our pot-luck dish - shrimp Vera Cruz from Epicurious.com - to a friend's little brunch party nearby.  She threw the little gathering to thank special friends for helping her to deal with her breast cancer diagnosis and therapy.   Everybody there was friendly and interesting to talk with and all the food was homemade and delicious.  It was a lovely way to spend a few hours on a lazy, warm Sunday.

I have a check-in appointment and echo scheduled for the 20th, but until then, I'll just be sitting on the sidelines taking it slow and easy here.

Spring is just around the corner now.  Hold on.

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Lemonade

My fruit drawer is filled with meyer lemons.  Elen - my 90 3/4 year old neighbor who came by a box of them from her brother with a prolific tree - says they are the sweetest and most preferred.  I do know they are very expensive when you can find them at all so Elen being Elen tallies up my take when she gives them to me even though they come to her gratis.  It's just Elen being who she is.

So with all these lovely, juicy, thin-skinned beauties on hand today I made chicken, rice and lemon soup.  It turned out well and reminded me of the soup our local Greek restaurant used to serve every day at lunch along with filo stuffed yummies.  The servers were surly but the food was great there.  Stoyonav was the name.  Long gone now.

Earlier today I was talking trash.  A joke.  I am trying to get Allen's office to recycle instead of sending all their shredded paper to landfill.  Had someone from the local trash company go audit their bin.  She will call me tomorrow to tell me if the change will save them money.  They won't respond to guilt so there has to be an econimic angle in it and there may be one.  I'll know tomorrow.

Allen goes out of town next week again so I'll be flying solo here.  Sadie always gets me up at some un-godly hour, but only once and then she leaves me alone for the duration.  These guys are kinder to me than they are to Allen.  I do appreciate that.

We have tickets for the Alvin Ailey dance company on Saturday and that I know I will enjoy.  On Sunday, Allen leaves for San Diego.

Lemons, trash, trips and dance.  Unifying theme?  None.  Sorry.  Maybe next time.

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Reflections on Aging and Being Alive

There are some good aspects to getting older.    Things take on a certain clarity as you stumble through the decades.  You give yourself permission to acknowledge openly what you love and what you hate even though it gets you into trouble far too often.  You just want to say "get over it" more and more.

I am not the person I was in my twenties, my thirties, my forties.  I am tougher now and yet softer in some ways.  Whatever it is I am, I do not apologize for any of it.  That's one of the best things about being this age.  You're done apologizing.

The phrase "you cannot please everybody" is a nice one, but it's worthless.  It's a no brainer.  Of course you cannot please everyone.  What kind of fantasy is that anyway?  I think the phrase "you cannot (often) please anyone" is more truthful.  And in the end, you are lucky if you just please yourself.   Be glad if you've at least done that.

I think it takes decades and decades just to get that far and the really galling thing is that just when you figure out what's up, it's nearly over.  And it all goes down with the ship.  Every last bit of understanding you've gained through trial and error goes down with the bloody ship!  Amazing!  It's so inefficient.

I'd like to extend my hand to my friends who are in the depression crater, but I cannot help them.  It's not about me.  And perhaps they don't realize I'm on the edge of that crater myself and might slip, slip, slip into it at any time.  It's perhaps easier to stay out than to get out, in the end.

So I write and I piddle and I listen to jazz and I busy myself as best I can around here trying to find pleasure in something about every day.  It's all any of us can do.

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Love Hate Relationship - SALT

I have been well aware for years that salt is a no-no for PH'ers.  For much of that time, I've chosen to believe it does not apply to me personally.  Well, now that I have my bathroom scale and have begun to use it, I see the effects of eating too much dietary salt.

I had put out a little bowl of delicious green olives last week when my guests were here along with some salmon dip and crackers.  After everyone left, I had the last four colossal green and red lovlies, the ones that had been left.  Then I read the label on the jar.  Those four olives contained over 800 mg of salt which is a huge load to add at one moment in time.  The next morning, I could not drop 1 1/2 pounds of extra water.  I was water-logged!

It took several days of responsible eating to get it off so I'm eyeing that half filled jar of green olives stuffed with garlic in the frige now with some trepedation.  I'll probably allow myself to eat them little by little over time, but after they go, there won't be any more in this house.

I wrote a little article about diet which I will finalize in the next day or two.  It will be featured on the home page here.  Doing the research was useful to me.  I've taken to heart what I wrote for everyone hoping people will choose their foods more carefully, read the labels and move toward a healthier diet.  I've taken a pledge to get on board with this myself.

Yesterday at the market, we had time to kill so I pulled out my pocket magnifier and started reading labels of things I might buy.  Sodium in everything pprepared was far too high in sodium so I stuck with raw materials.  Even the canned tomatoes with the label "no salt added" had more salt than they should have.  The tomatoes canned in Italy have about 1/10 the amount of salt so if I am making a big dish and need lots of tomatoes, I use one can of Ital tomatoes and one can of the no salt added ones from the U.S.  And if the pasta will have sauce on it, I don't salt the pasta water.  No more of that.

When my guests were having dinner here last week, one mentioned that nothing was too salty.  Nearly everyone I know - they are all of a certain age - have been warned about salt for one reason or another.  And we could all stand to eat a better diet anyway.

At the little co-op market on Saturday, I found red quinoa in the bulk bins and also purple jasmine thai rice.  The rice was given away to a friend who loves the color purple and she'll be the taste tester for the rice.  The quinoa is tasty as a side dish so that is a keeper. 

We're looking forward to a lovely week of spring-like weather here with sunny bits and rainy bits.  Hope everyone is doing well out there.

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No Pretty Words Today

Something is terribly wrong with our little dog Sadie.  Last December they checked her out thoroughly for thyroid problems and the tests came back more or less normal even though her hair loss and lack of appetite seemed to hint at a thyroid problem.  A few days ago, she would not get off her bed, did not ask to go out to pee and refused food all day.  It was the same on Friday and today she's very weak.

We took her to the nearby animal emergency facility last night, waited for a few hours just to get her hydrated.  We decided not to have them do an investigation there because they were trying to throw in every test known to vet medicine and I had little confidence in them.  I wanted for her to see the docs at spca today instead.

I called and called yesterday hoping for a cancellation so that we could get a real appt rather than be a walk in, but we had to walk in anyway.  Allen got up early to be at their door at 8 a.m.  He did get to see a doc at 9.

Now they are revisiting the thyroid issue and also looking into anemia.  They will keep her for a few hours today until they get the test results.  They are going to treat her for thyroid even before the results are back.  She's so weak and puny, it's frightening to see.

We're hoping whatever this turns out to be, it is treatable.  Sadie is a very important part of this household and we cannot even imagine having to part with her.

Cautiously hopeful here, but very worried too.

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Specialists

Sadie was referred to a specialist today; we picked her up to drive her a few blocks to a new (to us) suite of vet offices.  They are giving her a transfusion now. 

Her problem is not thyroid related.  It's far worse.  She seems to have an anemia caused by her immune system turning on itself.  She's destroying her own red blood cells.  After the transfusion, she will start on immuno-suppresent drugs.  The bad news is she is pretty weak.  The good news is she is young and she seems to be "stable", weak but holding on.  We are hopeful.

This anemia is the most common blood disorder in dogs and seems mostly to arise out of nowhere.  An infection can trigger it or a cancer or nearly anything else.  If that sounds peculiar, well yes it does.  The literature said in truth "we just don't know".

If I thought we were prolonging suffering, I would not have agreed to this.  If there is no underlying cancer and the anemia is idiopathic, it may correct itself over time so it may not open her to a lifetime of drugs and check-ups.  We won't know that for some time, but we wanted to give her a chance.

It's a funny position I find myself in.  When we sat in the animal emergency room last night, we witnessed some very serious cases: one dog who had a stroke was handed over by a tearful woman who after half an hour or so, emerged from the examination room crying as she headed for the exit door.  That was hard to see.  Another couple was haggling with the clerk about where they could go to get their cat a transfusion.  I told Allen I would never prolong an animal's life with transfusions if I felt it was hopeless.  The cat in question had lymphoma which I believe is not curable, but I might be dead wrong.

We just heard from one of the vets.  No cancer found in any scan and she is looking perkier.  They will offer her some baby food tonight.  If she's doing well enough, perhaps we can bring her home tomorrow!!!  Yeah!

I don't want to be too sure about any of this.  I want to think the worst is over, but there are still her meds to sort out and lots of check-ups in the future and there's still plenty that can go wrong.

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Sadie Part 3 (thread started 3/22)

We still have no concrete info on prognosis.  The doctor is still looking for a reason and checking red blood cell count and production.  She's slipped a bit which makes me crazy with worry and she won't eat.

I'm making chicken and dragging all the foods she would normally eat with me shortly for a visit.  I'll see if I can entice her to take a few bites of baked chicken, her freeze-dried slop or a few of her kibbles.  I left a milk bone there yesterday, but she has not touched it.

Elen, my 90=year-old neighbor who had never understand why people kept dogs until she got to know Sadie, calls periodically with a lump in her throat.  I am so touched by this show of emotion on a usually stone-cold realist who steers clear of emotions.  It's really something.

I am feeling the stress of this on my own body.  It's wiping me out.

More later.  It helps me to write here.  Not sure why, but it does help me.

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Sadie Part 4

The doc sent Sadie home with Allen last night.  The clinic won't have the results from the bone marrow test until sometime tomorrow and until then, the doc has added cyclosporin to her regiment.  She's very pooped out and I have to carry her down to the back yard to pee, but she seems comfortable on her bed.

If it is Hymolytic Anemia, he feels her situation may improve as the prednisone and cyclosporin build up in her body.  By suppressing the immune system, she will stop destroying her own red blood cells.  If it's something else entirely, this won't help at all.  For example, if the bone marrow shows that red blood cells are not being formed properly, it will be a new can of worms.

I don't know what to do with her or for her.  She's just pooped out so I'm leaving her alone.  She's got a good appetite - thanks to the prednisone - really for the first time in her life so packaging pills inside a clump of ground turkey cooked with veggies is pretty easy.  She takes whatever I offer in the way of food.

We're quite the pair.  Two short-of-breath, lumpy, limping along creatures hanging out together. 

This emotional rollarcoaster has knocked me out.   I don't pay this dearly for physical exertion.  I can tell you from firsthand experience, emotional upsets take a greater toll on the body than expending physical energy.  At least that is true of this body.  Boy, do I feel this. 

I take Sadie down to the doc tomorrow for a look see.  They will check the color of her gums to judge how anemic she is and perhaps we'll know something about her bone marrow by then.

Until then, we're both going to lay very low.

P.S.  I'll know a lot more this afternoon when Elen stop by.  I wonder if she'll be able to rally when she sees her friend.  If she does not manage a tail wag or a woof, I think my stress level will rise and rise again.   Right now, I'm not sure there is much woof left in her.

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Sadie Part 5

I was worried that Sadie would not rally when she saw Elen in my last entry.  Well, Sadie did show a lot of enthusiasm when Elen rang the bell, walked briskly to the door and barked a few times when Elen entered, but in short order, Sadie collapsed on her little legs.  She had overdone it.

I scooped her up and got her back in shape pretty quickly, but it freaked me out and made Elen very anxious.   elen, who will be 91 in two months herself, is not very steady on her feed either and it was hard to know who to worry about more. 

When Elen left, I placed Sadie back on her bed.  She looked like she had run the dog-sled marathon.

After Allen looked at her pale gums tonight, we dragged her back to the clinic for an assessment.  She may get one more transfusion to get her over the hump although her total red cell blood count was down just a little.  We need to perk her up and buy her time for a day or two more.  It's a time thing.

If you think we are insane for going to this trouble, I hear you.  I would hear about people who went to extraordinary lengths to ensure their pets survival and I just never saw myself in that position.  I've been more realistic in the past, but the issues were mostly old age which no one can argue with.  It's just that Sadie is young and deserves a fighting chance. 

I had no knowledge of this clinic before Saturday. I almost wish I qualified to be a patient myself!  The care is first-rate.  I am so impressed.

P.S.  Her bone marrow is normal  We're treating the right disease.  It is definitely autoimmune anemia.

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Sadie

We took Sadie to be euthanized at 6 a.m. this morning.  Hard times ahead for us.

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Three dogs and a slice of ham

I spent much of Friday in tears and half the time yesterday.  Today I was mostly dry, but thinking, thinking constantly about every detail of what lead up to Friday morning's decision and the dreadful outcome.  I want to roll back the clock and begin again, but nobody ever has that luxury. 

Last night we were invited up to a little impromptu neighborhood gathering and the subject did not turn to dogs.  There were other topics to cover and at just after eight, we turned out the electric lights to finish the evening in candle light, a nod to global warming. 

I love the semi-darkness.  I don't see well in light and probably have some sort of odd advantage in near darkness, something to do with rods and cones in the eye, but I don't really know.  I only know the sun distracts me and makes it hard for me to see details.  High contrast, like simple light and dark, makes me comfortable.  It so comfortable sitting around our friend's dinner table in candle light with three dogs waiting for food to dtop under her table.

Today I took a hunk of Neiman Ranch ham up to our dinner hostess for her dogs  The ham was still edible but going, going.  Neiman Ranch is a local farm co-op that contracts with family farms so when you buy their products, you know the animals were raised humanely.  The dogs were in for a treat.

When I called Elen on Friday morning, she broke out into a deep sob.  We hugged today.  Not everybody gets it, but the people that Sadie decided were special to her and the people who understand the depth of feeling that can come from a relationship between a human and any animal, say the right things.  I give a pass to the others who offer their condolences for the loss of "fluffy" or who think a dog weighing less than fifty pounds is a trinket not worthy of a mention at all.

There are so many things I would change if I had the chance.  If I had only paid more attention.  If I only had known.  But we never anticipate the really bad things.  They just happen and we have to learn to live with them somehow or other.

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A New Day for Webster

We have received so many heartfelt comments from our animal loving friends, it made the days easier.  I got caught up in it and lost sight of the day to day void in our lives here.  When it's quiet and I forget things for a bit, I think I hear Sadie moving around and that startles me.  Other times, I say something out loud to her because I forget that she's not here to respond.  And when I hear the automatic garage door open after dark, I have to catch myself before blurting out, "Sadie, daddy is home" which always got her running back and forth to the door readying herself for the leap into Allen's arms.

I spend part of every day reading about her illness online and have learned about all the common foods that are toxic to dogs.  I had no idea.  Macademia nuts, avocado, walnuts, tomatoes, onions!  OMG ONIONS!  Why didn't I know any of this?

I don't think any of those substances caused her illness unless it was disguised in something we brought in, but the list of foods she ate was tiny.  We did not often allow her to lick our plates and she mostly rejected what we did offer.  I have gone over everything I might have done to cause this, and nothing is obvious.   I've even talked to the people who produce the new food we introduced to her around the beginning of March which contains garlic, a toxin to dogs but only in large quantities.  Maybe a little bit every day to a dog weighting 7 pounds is a lot?

I'm not trying to affix blame at this point.  I just want to know.  It just makes no sense to me.

My heart is not closed.  I am lobbying for a kitten and soon.   We need a spark.  We will probably get another dog one day, but not now.  I cannot warm to that idea this soon.

P.S.  Mr. Webster is enjoying some freedoms now.  He has our complete attention when he races back and forth through the house.  He always had to contend with a jealour dog before who chased him into the shadows.  It's a new day for Webster.

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A Rant - Something to Chew On

Some months back we watched the Ken Burns series about world war II.  Everybody said it was good and even though I was not sure the topic was going to interest me, I began watching it.  Well, I learned a lot from that series which ran for weeks and took up a dozen or more hours of our time.  I had no idea that war had involved Americans so much, so profoundly  If we had lost that one, we would not be complaining about George W!

Since that war ended, most Americans have not lived war unless of course, they had a family member or friend fighting somewhere.  We have been asked to sacrifice nothing material except of course, our sons and daughters.

During WWII, used cooking grease was saved and taken to a collection point to be made into fuel, food was rationed, many consumer goods were in short supply all to support the war effort.  Everybody pitched in. 

They teach you in economics classes about guns and butter.  Either a society invests in guns (war) or butter (goods and services to help ordinary people).  Somewhere along the way, we figured out a way to have both.  War is profitable, after all to the companies that make weapons, supply the uniforms, the food, the services, get the big contracts to rebuild what has been toppled.  No siree, war is profitable especially when all the contracts are given to American companies.

There has been no rationing or talk of cutting back on consumption here at home during the Korean, Vietnamese or now the Iraq / Afgan wars.  Instead we are asked to hold our heads high, be proud of freedoms we enjoy and most of all, we are told to spend money "for the economy".

After 9/11, we were asked to go to NY and take in the shows to support the economy there.  After Katrina, we were asked to take a trip to the French Quarter to support the economy there.  When someone has a charity event, it's a party.  Famous people donate their time to put on a show to entertain Americans.  We play and we play and we buy and buy our guilt away.

Why not just write a check without going to a party.  If you find a charity you care about, how about just handing over some of your cash.  Just because a store donates some prcentage of all sales to charities, are they perhaps just helping you assuage your guilt?

There was a lot of talk after the attacks of 9/11 on the subject of why these people hate us.  Some of the smarter talking heads hit the nail on the head.  They hate us because we are shallow.  In my opinion, that is why they hate us.

People in so many other countries live in poverty, without enough food or clean drinking water and here we are all propped up with goods and services eager to buy more "for the good of the economy".

I have pieced this logic together ovr a number of years.  It's all been rolling around in my head and needed to come out somewhere.  If you've read this far, you might as well see it through.

Would I give up being an American? Absolutely not.  We just need to realize we are not special, we are just lucky as hell to have been born here.  And we need to do more for others and less for ourselves. 

Something to chew on.

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