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Archive for August, 2017

Murphy

I have a confession: I love this dog. I pretend I don’t, in keeping with our struggle of wills when he was a puppy ten years ago (and I was on crutches due to knee surgery). It’s our pact: he’s a butt-head and i resent him for that. But, in reality, he’s one of the most loving dogs, ever, and he thinks that I am his goddess.

Oh, I will never replace his master: Murphy and Don have one of those bonds that eclipse the normal man/dog relationships. Murph is certainly a one-man-dog, and Don would be lost without him.

When Murph was still a pup, I was the one who held on to him when scary ATVs crossed our paths hiking. I was the one who whispered sweet nothings in his ear as we raced him to a doggy hospital while his face swelled up and he went into anaphylactic shock from several wasp stings. I have always been the person he hides behind when his Master raves at electronic devices or the television. And I brought home his best friend and little brother, Harvey.

Murphy has always loved Harvey. It’s the weirdest of doggy relationships: two neutered males from very different litters, a year apart, introduced on the whim of a human=bond for life. Harvey/Murphy and Murphy/Harvey. Brothers from another mother. The only fight they ever had in the past eight years was over gravy. We discovered that Harvey, the Omega dog, will become the Alpha Dog when gravy is present. He drew blood the first time they clashed over gravy. Otherwise, Murphy has commanded the relationship, a true Alpha Dog.

Then Harvey got sick. We still don’t know what is wrong with him. He coughs, hacks, and spits. Nothing comes out. Attacks last 5-15 minutes. Some days are better than others. Some days, I think I need to call the vet and set The Date. I don’t want to set The Date. I know what that entails. BTDT with Hannah’s Promise (Sadie) just over a decade ago. It was awful.

Harve had more wrong with him than just the mystery respiratory disease. He’s a rescue dog, with no parental history, but is obviously a purebred English Setter, probably not an ordained AKC breeding. He’s inbred. He had a degenerative spinal column. He’s over weight. He isn’t properly socialized as a puppy and doesn’t know how to play with other dogs, but he’s properly socialized as an adolescent dog, and can handle meeting strange dogs. He loves children. He thinks everyone loves him.

Murphy is AKC, and from a very reputable breeder in Buhl, Idaho. He’s had lots of puppy/dog socialization. he loves children. He’s field trained, but not sidewalk trained (he can point, retrieve, and respond quickly, but don’t try to walk him on a leash). He’s the smartest dog we have owned, bar Rosie (who could spell difficult words like s q u i r r e l l) (she was a mutt). He’s very independent and stubborn, and a born alpha dog. I had to learn (on the fly) how to deal with an Alpha Dog with my own Fear of Alpha Dogs up front.

I’m the Alpha. Murphy recognizes that, but on a barely scale. What I really am, to Murphy, is the Safe Haven. the Mom who protects her pups. The person to run to when he’s afraid or upset because his Master is yelling at the tablet or TV. I go out the door first, but that’s the end of dominance understanding with Murphy.

Harvey doesn’t care. He’s the lackadaisacal second-in-command (except for situations involving gravy) dog.

Harvey is also the one with the predictable genetic failings. He has the spinal column that narrows too soon and sometimes pinches nerves and hurts the hind quarters. He developed the mysterious wasting disease that fills his lungs with fluid, but doesn’t register on any known autoimmune doggie disease. He’s ten months and counting, coughing and hacking up nothing, but still rebounding to go for a walk or to have his full body massage. Nothing prescribed works. Nothing shows up on his x-rays except excess fluid in his lungs. He’s an enigma, and sometimes I think I need to schedule his demise – but then he rebounds.

How can i put him down? I know I will need to soon, but as long as he rebounds… His quality of life is still good.

But, Murphy. I don’t know. He gets his first dose of Tramadol tonight. I hope/pray it is enough to grant him a good nights’ sleep. The first x-rays show a mass on his spleen. The vet thinks he had a stomach rupture this past weekend that exacerbated things, but which has healed quickly. He’s on antibiotics. Friday, he gets a blood draw.

We’re looking at a spleen removal. I don’t normally spend that kind of money on a dog, but Murphy is Don’s best friend. He’s the smartest dog (next to Rosie) ever. He’s Don’s Best Friend. He’s hunted and retrieved. He cost an arm and a leg at birth. He comes from good stock.

Why is it this hard? (Rhetorical question) And why (again – rhetorical) does this come up at the center of a humanitarian crisis? (Texas flooding after Hurricane Harvey).

What are YOUR criteria on how to make decisions based on your pet’s health and possible survival rate — and humanitarian aid?

 

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So? Were you close enough to travel to the path of totality?

I admit, the eclipse wasn’t really on my radar. there was apartial eclipse of the sun when my kids were in grade school, and they made cereal box viewers, but that’s as close as I have ever come. I didn’t have much expectation beyond that. But my husband – ever the science nerd – was very excited that we were within 30 miles of the path of totality and we could actually get to a place to view the total eclipse.

He did the research, he bought the lenses. Now, he didn’t buy those cheap paper glasses that you have to destroy by 2020. Not his style. He purchased a pair of welding goggles for me that covered my glasses and asked me to purchase new lenses for his welding goggles. We were going Steam Punk, and he doesn’t even know what that means. Forget the cheap paper glasses.

eclipse wear

The front flips up so you can see in day time. But down like this: you see NOTHING unless you’re looking directly at the sun.

Unfortunately, my phone died so I have no pics of him in his goggles. Damn.

Months ago, he decided we should ask his reclusive friend if we could come down to Monitor, Oregon, to view the eclipse. By the time he called, two other parties had invited themselves. I think we overwhelmed the woodworker. Great minds…

We spent the past four days figuring out the perfect back roads and timing them. This morning, he decided we needed to leave even earlier (I needed to get gas). What a good call! I had gas before the station started to back up. We followed several cars and bike (on back roads with no shoulders!) into Monitor. Traffic was light, considering we usually see NO ONE on those roads and today we saw ten cars.

My phone died. I have no photos of the mayflies rising to mate as dusk came on. The people around us were taking photos through filters on their phones (or trying to). The professional photographer was aiming his camera. We bantered. Then the sky turned dimmer, dimmer, dimmer, and cooler. We put on out glasses and watched the moon cross the sun into totality. And we removed our glasses to gaze upon the BEAUTY of the total eclipse.

I have no photos. It was beautiful. Solar flares. Deep blue sky. Planets coming out.

And it was over.

We packed up, headed north. Our secret back roads were suddenly not secret, but they were road that all other roads funneled into. I really have no complaint about the ensuing traffic (it took us3 X the normal to get home) except this: the 1% of bicyclists who consider themselves above the law and invincible. We were on 2-lane roads with no shoulder, very curvy. And this 1% decided they could pass cars on the left, over double yellow lines, in places where you could not see oncoming traffic. They were lucky to miss the semis.

What took us3 0 minutes to get to, took us 1,75 hours to get away from, going the same direction.We were good – we just leaned back and let other drivers in at intersections (we’re all in the same problem). While I don’t have an eclipse picture to show you, I can assure you: it was worth it. That was beautiful.

 

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So Much To Do Still

It’s getting real here. In less than three weeks, I have my first solo art show since the late 1970’s. (I know, I started that sentence with a prepositional phrase!)

I’m checking things off of my “to do” list left and right. My mentor will not be able to be at this art show, so I am truly flying “solo” (but I wish her all the good vibes in the world and prayers as she and her husband really need them).

I do feel more prepared than I was in 1978 when I did my one and only art show in the city park in Baker City (I got one sale and a good commission out of that). I have a better display system, a decent 10×10′ canopy with sides, and the support of my husband (I was single in 1978). I know where I am going and have a better idea of how to market my art and myself. I have a wider support system. And I have a lot more artwork to display and a better idea of pricing.

Today, I bought a collapsible wagon to haul things back and forth from my site: all art and monies will be taken from the site at closing on Saturday and returned before opening on Sunday. It may be unrealistic to think I can drive in to the site to take down on Sunday, so the wagon can help there, too.

My pop-up canopy is cheap and will last only a couple of seasons, but by then I should have made enough money to replace it. I have two repairs to do to it already – and it is brand new. Easy-peasy stuff, hand-sewing stuff. I practiced putting it up with the help of my husband on Saturday past. We made note of our mistakes as we went. I took it all down by myself on Sunday, except for pushing in the little release buttons on the legs – I’ll pack a flat head screwdriver to help me with that if I happen to have to take down by myself on Sunday. It all fits in my car with ease.

I’ve done this for – what? three? four? – years with my mentor and my set-up is much simpler than hers (my media is also very different from hers). That makes my tear-down half the issue it is with her, and I am confident I can do it by myself.

Still, I am nervous. I had to pass a jury of my peers to get into this art show, unlike the 1970’s. i was accepted and that thrills my little heart. I need to have my website updated by the show (AUGH! Another expense!), My brain is on over-drive and not concentrating on my day job or the upcoming grandkid’s birthdays, both a “no-no”. (I mean, can you believe one grand kid turns 8 on August 9th? A great-niece turns 8 on August 6th? Another grandson turns 7 on the 12th? And #10 turns one on the 24th?) Really? I have to think of THREE gifts? I figured Dinotopia would work for the boys, but now I have to add a 1-yo to the mix?

Deep breaths. I spoke to the credit union today about getting the Visa/MC App added to my phone. I have a credit block on my name and had to answer difficult questions (where did I live before here? uh – that was 15 years ago and there’s still a dispute on the actual street numbers…) (Who holds your mortgage? Uh – it changes nearly every year as things get sold out… Let me think…) I answered correctly on all of them, but dang – I was not expecting that!!

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