Random thoughts, I have these every so often

Much like paddling, walking my dogs leads me down a contemplative path. I often ponder unanswerable questions when in the company of my dogs.

Such as:
-I recently saw a meme going around that said "Dog is Love." But I had also seen earlier a meme that said "God is Love." And also a bumper sticker "Love is God" So, let me see if I get this straight: if God equals Love and Love equals Dog, then Dog = Love which = God. Dog is God. No wonder they are have the same three letters arranged front to back, in reverse. And then I started thinking "ah, so if Dog is an embodiment of God then what is the Dog Star? An embodiment of God in a star? Or is it that all dogs are stars....?" "Oh, all dogs go to Heaven, of course!"

-The leash ties us together. It protects our dogs from injury and protects we humans' hearts from trauma too. All hail the leash!

-I know that dogs view their poop as much as we people view calling cards. I wonder what they think when I remove their "calling cards?" My female dog always looks away, as though she is embarrassed.

-While picking up poo this morning I discover my female dog still has soft stools. I am stumped. We have tried everything from home made food to voodoo, and nothing seems to help. I blame the chronic soft stools on the numerous antibiotics she received during the 18 months she struggled to recover from a brutal bone infection.

Following the last round of voodoo, actually homeopathic remedies, she finally overcame the infection. She walks without a limp and no longer has a swollen leg with a draining tract. A human would have sunk into such depression, having a swollen arm with pus draining from it for 18 months. So we forgave Kona her terrible attitude during those long months. She became our horrible baby, a snarling growling grumpuss, needing love and tender care.

-The local foxes and possibly coyotes poop at the end of driveways and sometimes on side walks. I know this is their way of marking territory. Leaving calling cards. But one must be awake to avoid stepping in their "calling cards" at dusk or dawn. And I sometimes shamble around the block like a zombie at dawn, propelled by my grip on the leash, the gentle tug of the dog at the other end. You can see where this is headed, right...?

-My dogs will never "dump" me, unlike my human friends. And so I ponder, having just had a friend leave my life with many unanswered questions, My husband says I attract flawed people. If so, then it is because I am tolerant of human defects, living in a glass house and all. I am so aware that I am no paragon of human perfection. "Flawed" is just another way to say "perfectly human."

husband covered in beasts

-It is almost fall again. Autumn used to be my favorite time of year. Now I dread its arrival, remembering past years. This fall I will not stop paddling, having graduated to the dry suit crowd. I am enrolled at a yoga studio to help me stay active and focused. I am also thinking of having a frank discussion with my gp, just to see if he has anything to suggest. That is, anything besides decamping to Florida for the main part of the dreary season.

Thanks giving and all of that

Sometimes you have to say goodbye. And it sucks.

I can sometimes be found working at a vet hospital. It's not a "calling" or a "vocation," it's more like an unpleasant pastime that pays the bills. Please don't get me wrong, I love working with animals. The people, not so much. I am lucky in that I am still employed despite the truly atrocious economy. And that I am employed despite being a middle-aged plump female of middling health.

Don't laugh, you have no idea how lucky I am. Or maybe you do? Maybe your Aunt Edna lost her job when her company office downsized and she can't get re-employed to save her life. Now she's living in her geriatric parents' sun room, working at Walmart part-time just to pay for her car note and food. This is, all kidding aside, exactly the fate of many 40 & 50-something aged gals.

The incoming young people, fresh faced and right out of college, look so much more appealing to the HR department. I know, I AM the HR department at my place of employ. And it's not like I am some lecherous creep. I just foresee less management problems with the younger crowd. Although, come to think of it, one of my teenaged coworkers called me at 9:45 last night, waking me from a sound sleep. She wanted to discuss more hours. Believe me, calling me at that hour is a sure way to get me to agree to anything just to get you off my phone. She's not stupid, that one.

But in the end, even despite the "Gen Y" peculiarities, I am saying I wouldn't hire myself, if there were a younger option.

Because I am still recovering from one surgery and getting ready for another I have a lot of time to think. I am thinking about where my life is going. And whether that's where I want to go. Do I really want to "keep fighting the good fight" with my clinic? Or would I rather be painting and starving? The painting and starving options might not be as bad as it seems. I need to lose some weight, and I need to get these ideas up on canvas so I can move on to other ideas. And make those happen next. Also, I need time to focus on getting healthy and stronger. I don't have much time between work & home duties.

My chiropractor said it would be a full-time job to fully recover in a year's time. He wants me to cook all this special food, and eat a very "clean" diet. Then, walk 4 plus miles a day, and fit in all the exercises both he and the physical therapist have prescribed. And resume cycling, etc.

And where does that leave me-time? Me as in painting, and knitting, braiding, sewing, making...? I am not getting any less tired, that's for sure. So here's my Sunday after Turkey Day blog. Lamentable as always, an Eyore for sure. And on that sad note, a last photo taken by me of one of my all time favorite patients:

Good bye Max. We will never forget you.

I have surprised myself

I am actually glad that I had the labral tear fixed. I have had many days since the surgery where I can mostly walk well. It has been less than thirty days and the benefits of the surgery are obvious. For example: I can get out of my office chair and walk like the biped I am! Before it was an ordeal just to get out of my office chair and navigate the obstacles in my office.

People take this walking shit way too casually. Sure, it's something you do every day and you pay absolutely no mind to it. Until you can't walk, then the shit hits the proverbial fan I say! Yeah, I can see you are impressed. Try not being able to move because it felt like your butt tendons are tied too tight. Say, try that for about a year. Then, magically, some thing loosens said bun strings and voila! you can walk.

Now I am in physical therapy twice a week and the therapist I got this time was a lucky draw. He's great! Say that like Tony the Tiger! He stretches my hips and pelvis out (sounds dirty but it ain't) every visit and has begun adding balancing and strength exercises to my home practice.

At the same time as I was lame, my puppy went lame as well. She is only 14 months old but has barely been able to use her front leg now for 4 months. That's nearly 1/3 of her life. So my limp has nothing on hers. It's all very mysterious, this limp. We found a jagged hole in the third metatarsal of the lame leg. We have run every test possible on this dog, short of anesthetizing her and sending her into the MRI tube. During these four months the foot has occasionally developed an abscess between the affected and adjoining toes. Last week we sedated her, flushed out the abscess and x-rayed the leg again. No real improvement. In desperation, I finally asked my cats's homeopathic vet for a "Hail Mary" remedy. Can't hurt, might help.

The homeopath also asked me to re-evaluate what I am feeding my dogs. She suggested substituting 50% of their commercial diet with real home cooked food. First up, they started getting scrambled eggs and spinach for dinner. This weekend I will be making my first people-edible happy-dog stew. My husband loves beef stew. I myself don't care much for it. The husband says he will eat all of the stew himself before the dogs even get a bite. I am cooking a gallon or more, so he has his work cut out for him.

Soon I will be able to bike and hike again. Soon I will be able to paddle. Soon I hope my Kona Bean will be able to ramble on long walks with me (my favorite!) But for right now I will spend my time reading, crafting, researching, and cooking. It is really no surprise I have gained 15 pounds and she has gained 5. We will lose it together when we are healed. Finger crossed!