sick as a dog

The vet and I talked twice today and the second time was about whether Faith was ready to come home today. "He's eating well and doing fine but I still need to check and see if there is air in there so maybe I'll keep him here tonight." Hmm, I'm thinking. "It's up to you whether to come get him." "He can stay here tonight and we'll watch him or you can try it at home." It's like rainy and gloomy and "he" was still bleeding a little bit from the "tubes" so I said let's just see how it goes and leave "him" there. Nobody has to go drag her sick old butt out in the weather. Everybody went on about their business here at the house.

About fifteen minutes later I got another call from a very embarrassed vet explaining that she had the wrong dog when we were talking! Being a healthcare provider myself, I know how that's easy to do and even more so when the clients can't tell you their names. I'm still smiling about how cute it was, and Faith is on the way home shortly to snuggle with the fam on a chilly wet Friday night at home. All three of us people are sick as well with colds brought on by the changing of seasons, mold and whatnot. Oh, and the cold rain. I've got my eye on a heater at the big box store that I know for a fact will do a small room quite efficiently and there's some weatherstripping in my future as well. Last winter was so mild that we managed to slip through with little central heat. You never know what Big Ernie's gonna throw our way this time around.

I am assuming that Ms O's earthly body has been laid to rest by now and am still quite teary over the the way she struggled at the end. Though I have been witness to the process of people dying many times, it never ceases to amaze me how strong the will to live can be when it comes right down to it. The last words that I whispered to her were that it was okay to let go. She had fought the good fight and lived a good life. Memories of her will go to the grave with me, a spunky little pistol of a woman who insisted on smoking and drinking way past when the doctors said STOP. Yet she made it to 80 in reasonably good health and enjoyed life by telling stories and making jokes in that authentic British accent. She is between my mother and father in age, and I suspect that the entire ethereal reason for her coming into MY life in redneck town TN was to prepare me for what's in my future. Yeah, I think too much. God bless you Ms. O and thanks for all of the joy that you brought to my life.

Got beer? Check. Food? Check. That's about the shape of things on the lane for weekend eve. It's good enough for me ^j^