The Witching Well

That was his name, really. Tonka for short, like the big yellow trucks we all used to play with as kids. Most of the time, though, we called him Boo or Boo-boo, often with the definite article. (Yes, it makes me think of the song, too: “Me and you and a dog named Boo…” But that’s a coincidence. Boo was a manglement of “boy” originally.)

We got the Boo from the woman who made my wedding dress. I’ve been married 15 years. I’ve had a dog 15 years. As of last night, I have to learn how to do one of those without the other.

We’ve been preparing ourselves this last year or so to let him go. Eventually. He was, after all, 15. He also had a degenerative neuralopathy, which meant he was slowly losing control over his back legs. And he was a bit senile. Eventually, we figured, when he was no longer enjoying his daily raid on the cat food bowl, when he stopped begging like a fool for the bits of chicken and hamburger that my mother liked to save for him, we’d have to make that hard decision.

But last night, what the vet called “twisted stomach” got him instead. He seemed OK when we got home from work. Around 10pm, he died in my arms in the back seat of the car on the way to the emergency clinic. Happens that way sometimes, apparently.

I’m just glad it didn’t happen when no one was home.

Today we’re both staying home from work so we can start learning how to live without him underfoot.

Mood: sad

As airports go, the one at Tampa isn’t too bad. There’s the usual food and places to sit and restrooms and internet access. But it’s not on my list of places to spend a whole day. Unfortunately, when you have a connecting flight at Atlanta and Atlanta is shut down for weather…

That was Sunday. Before that, though, on Saturday, there was a cousin getting married and other cousins to visit with and my brother to hang with and lots of great food. So, you know, not enirely a bad weekend trip. Though I do find it a bit disconcerting that I seem to have become one of those people who says to younger relatives: “When I last saw you, you were only that tall.” In my defense, the cousin (once removed) I said it to is now close to 7 feet tall and married and when I last saw him he was still drinking from a bottle.

And Mom gave me a really good laugh on the way down on Friday. She had a book packed, but it wasn’t very long and she wanted to save it for reading at night in the hotel, so she went to the newsstand and got a magazine for the flight down. Told me when she came back that she doesn’t usually read trashy celebrity-watcher mags (she’s more the Time, Consumer Reports, Bon Apetit, and Cat Fancy type) but she’d picked up an issue of People. Seems she does this sometimes when she travels. But when she pulled out the magazine after we’d boarded, it turns out she’d grabbed the Miley Cyrus Collector’s Issue of the thing by mistake. Hannah Montana til you puke on your shoes.

She left the magazine in the seatback pocket. Maybe the next passenger was a 12-year-old girl?

Mood: tired

Did you know that if you bash the back of your hand hard enough, say on the approaching edge of a rapidly sliding train station door, then wait a couple of days for the swelling to go down, you end up looking like you’re wearing a really ugly yellowish fingerless glove with purple-red trim around the bases of your fingers?

In other news, we had our first 99-degree day of the season yesterday. I’m officially tired of summer now.

Mood: hot

Two of our friends got Andy a 12″ tall remote control dalek for his birthday. It was almost as big a hit at the party last night as their six month old daughter.

The cat is going to need therapy. Possibly the dog, too.

Mood: amused
Music: Great Big Sea: Sea of No Cares

Sorry I haven’t been around. I’m afraid I’m going through one of those phases where I don’t really feel like I have anything to say. I’m reading a lot, working on the novel a little. I’ll wake up a bit more as spring actually proves that it’s really here, I’m sure.

Mood: ditzy

Still using the cane for long walks, but that’s just in case rather than an actual need. Luckily, the thing folds down small enough to fit in my backpack. I have high hopes that I’ll be back to normal in a few more days.

Amazing how for granted we take our limbs until they don’t work right. And using a cane puts my left hand out of service when walking, too. Which is a major pain in the ass when there are doors between me and my destination, because my right hand is usually busy carrying things. Tomorrow, I expect to be cane-free in the office, and am very much looking forward to being able to bring a drink to meetings again.

It’s the little things.

Mood: optimistic

Three weeks ago — no, maybe it’s four weeks now, I was getting up out of a chair at the end of a meeting, and I felt a muscle in my foot go twang. I didn’t twist my foot or bend it any more than usual. Just normal getting up motions.

Huh, I thought to myself. I seem to have pulled something. It didn’t hurt too terribly badly, though it did make me limp a bit. Being me, I thought very little about it and went on with my life.

A little over a week later was the trip to NY (aka the weekend from hell). I walked on it even though it was still a bit twingey and by the time we got home, I was in much more pain than originally and was walking with a pronounced limp.

Well, I overdid it a bit, didn’t I? I thought, and went on with my life, albeit at a slower, limping pace.

It was the next weekend before I caught on to the fact that maybe I’d actually sprained something. Spent 2 days with it elevated. Plugged in the heating pad. Borrowed a cane from my mother (who has a bum knee and thus many orthopedic supplies).

I’ve been using the cane for a week now, and the foot is feeling much better. Better enough, in fact, that I toy hourly with the idea of NOT using the cane. But I suspect I’d regret that in about three dozen paces if I were so stupid (of course, I don’t have a great track record here, so we’ll see how the scales between brains and impatience balance out in the end).

The doctor’s appointment you’re probably wondering about by now? That’s this afternoon. She’ll probably just tell me to stay off it and such, like I’m doing (now!), but if I cancel the appointment I think my husband will refuse to speak to me all weekend.

Mood: frustrated

My husband and I spent the weekend visiting his relatives, which is a 4.5 hour drive from home. In the span of time between Saturday and Monday, here’s what went wrong:

• We had tickets to see Wicked with our 2 nieces. One of them couldn’t come because her ketones were way off (she’s diabetic) and there was concern she might need to be taken to the hospital. This was supposed to be her Christmas present.
• The Patriots lost the Superbowl. While my husband and I were sitting in a room full of Giants fans.
• We were supposed to come home on Monday. An hour into the return trip, our radiator basically fell apart, stranding us in Danbury, CT. My inlaws had to drive out to rescue us and the dog, and we both had to beg out of work today because the parts couldn’t be got until this morning.
• Overnight last night, one of my inlaws’ three cats died.

Mood: drained

Friends are for having things that you would love to have, but that you have the good sense not to. Like video gaming systems that you know would suck all the time out of your life. Andy and I visited friends like this over the weekend. Kate and George have X-Box 360. They have Guitar Hero II.

I can now almost play Cheap Trick’s Surrender on Easy level. Kate, on the other hand, is working on Trogdor.

Mood: pleased