PRISMS AND POLKA DOTS

Have been in absentia the last few days, mostly due to the monthly newsletter.  The topic I chose to write about required the ability to fit the Pacific Ocean into a thimble.  I asked the editor for a couple extra days, and at 8 yesterday morning I sent the final draft over to him.  There was no way I could disengage my brain from the article to write a blog.

Well, today isn't the best of days.  Cuddy was scheduled for a dental appointment, and we took him to the clinic at 7:30 this morning.  A few minutes ago the lady vet called to say that Cuddy's blood work came back with some high numbers regarding his liver.  She needed authorization to x-ray to see if there's a tumor a mass or some other problem.  

You can about imagine what this does to my world.  He's at the clinic now, and we'll wait to hear what the x-rays show.  There may still be a chance that he's good to go for the dental work.  Teeth extractions may be part of the procedure, and the vet needs to have more information before going ahead.

Yup, life is a real deal.  Life spans are short for the most loyal creatures on this earth.  All of us who are dog owners know this for fact.  Cuddy doesn't belong to us, yet I'm gonna say that for sure we love Cuddy as if he was ours.  Now I remember why, after we lost Little Emma, I swore never would we own another one.  We're right back to how we felt back then.

This isn't a pity-me party, but in the last three months I've lost my brother, my non-biological brother, and now Cuddy enters a stage of his life that cannot have a good ending.  While Cuddy is in our care, he has fun, he is loved, hugged, kissed and cared for as if he was made out of solid gold.  When he wants to get off the bed at night, I get up and sleep on the couch beside his little bed.  He hates riding in the car and shakes, but I showed him what it's like to open the passenger car window and let the breeze blow on his little nose.  Then he stops shaking.  Every time he puts his little paw on the screen door, we open it so he can go lay out in the sun.  What Cuddy wants, Cuddy gets.  Three times every day Dale takes him out to go potty.  His daily routines, even at age of 15, are absolutely spot on.  In snow, rain, and ice Dale sees to it that Cuddy is comfortable and okay.  Between the two of us, we treat him better than lots of people treat their own children.  

Maybe it's time for another major project.  One that will consume my mind and keep my heart from floating up into my head.  

I'll end today's post with a picture Dale took of the peonies blossoming along the Venny garden fence.  In the background, the haze is from the Canadian wildfires.