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My Precious

Raining cats and dogs.

I take every drop of rain I can get at the moment. We are expecting dry times and hot weather ahead due to the influence of an expected super El Nino. My dogs however, take each day as it comes.

Fynn is not a happy chappy when it rains. Why “go” outside when it rains when the hall wall is a perfectly suitable alternative? He’s so precious. Did I tell you the story of how we had to rush him to the vet earlier this year because he drank too much and nearly died of water toxicity? Clearly, drinking water is not a problem, but standing in it is.

Don’t make me!

Makea, on the other hand, loves to chill in the rain. She also loves to come inside and rub herself dry on the lounge chair. She’s so precious.

This is the life!

Ama fares well. She is perky despite some arthritis and continues to surprise us. The other day I glanced out the window at a man walking his dog past the house. Dogs have a sixth sense about how to embarrass their owners. His dog chose that moment to crap on my garden verge. The poor man looked toward the window and saw that I had observed this indiscretion. So he signalled to me for a bag so he could clean it up. That was nice of him. As I opened the door to pass him the bag, Ama flew past me and attacked his dog. She moved fast for an old girl. I don’t know who was more embarrassed. I’m so precious. Ama is a little cow.

Take care, everyone, and remember that life is precious.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

Posted on by Reflections of an Untidy Mind

Unfinished Business

My father is definitely thinner. Frailer. His kidneys are failing him but I can’t decide whether he has lost his mind. He probably has, but I don’t want to face it. Most likely because, if he has lost his mind, I am not far behind him. But this is not about me.

My father needs to decide whether to go on dialysis. He’s old. And frail. And forgets things. Did I mention that? However, he has always been rather forgetful as he doesn’t pay attention.

There’s probably only one sure thing. Ama, our little dog who is supposed to be dead by now, will probably outlast us both. She doesn’t forget anything. The diagnostic blood test clearly didn’t tell the full story. The excess insulin in her system was from her pancreas correcting for the dawn phenomenon and not from a tumour. Ama is unusual but not that unusual. Thank Dog!

So here we all are. Not going strong, but still going. Hope you are too.

Take care and try to pay attention.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

Posted on by Reflections of an Untidy Mind

24 Stories – II

Earlier in the year, our little Finnish Spitz, Ama, suffered an unpleasant medical episode, or at least we thought she had. One night she wouldn’t settle. She paced and whined, panted and barked constantly. For hours. I thought she was having a heart attack so my True Love rushed her to the overnight emergency vet.

The vet said she was in pain, maybe a back injury, so they gave her some strong pain medication and told us to keep her quiet. It didn’t work. She continued to pace, whine and bark. All night in fact. She also wanted to go outside every five minutes and cried at the back door. We were exhausted. What were we to do? At 6am, we took her to the other emergency vet for the blood tests we had declined the previous evening. The blood tests revealed very little. It was a mystery. The vet gave her a sedative so that we, I mean, she, could get some rest. We slept all day and Ama seemed to improve. As evening approached, she started to get agitated again.

A couple of months later, she saw her regular specialist – special girl that our cherub is. We discussed the possibility of dementia but he could see no evidence of cognitive decline. The verdict? She’s getting old and demanding.

Weeks later it came to pass that the same thing happened again. But this time, the cause of this agitation became abundantly clear.

A possum eating our climbing rose! Ama is now banned from going out at dusk and early evening until we check that the coast is clear. Typical Finnish Spitz. The force (hunting instinct) is strong in them. So is the cheese instinct, but that’s another story.

Ama turned 12 years old in December. She still shines brightly.

Here’s to Ama.

Take care, everyone. May your evenings be free of rose-eating possums.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

RDP – The Day After