On Sunday I noticed Cochise shaking his head and scratching at his ears. I checked him out and found some gunk inside, which I removed with Q-tips. I made a note to stop into Tractor Supply and get some ear mite medication, just in case.
This morning I checked him again and found both ears swollen and hot. I decided to put a call in to Doctor Sandra and make an appointment: I assumed he’d scratched at his ears enough to cause an infection.
Before I could do that, during the morning poop patrol, I found what I believe to be the true source of his discomfort: a yellow jacket nest in the play yard. Continue reading “Invasion Force”
It is a humbling thing to be confronted with the fact that you are not Superman. You can no longer do things you once could … or rather, when you do them anyway you pay a hefty price. Stamina fades faster that it once did. And concepts you were confident you could handle turn out to be deeply distressing.
This is a big part of why I said “farewell” to my co-workers at the Humane Society of Jefferson County today. This was a bittersweet parting for I do need to rest and heal but I have enjoyed working with the animals, and the people, and I have learned a lot: especially in the realm of medical treatments and testing.
All of the staff members were (are) great to work with: patient while I was learning (for there is a great deal to learn) and helpful when I lagged behind. I found no petty rivalries here: they are a team of big-hearted, hard working people dedicated to providing a clean, safe environment for the animals in their care, and then finding them homes again. There are also some wonderful volunteers who step in to help and will work hard without pay. These volunteers deserve an extra helping of praise.
On the one hand, I love working with the animals. Except maybe the rats: I still can’t say I enjoy the rats. As a youngster I wanted to be a veterinarian, but that was not to be. The medical side of this job has been as close to that as I’ve come. And I liked it. I like every one of the people who I worked with, and will miss them.
On the other hand, I will again have time to spend with the 6 dogs I have at home: some are pets, some are fosters. I’m supposed to be training the fosters, I will again have time to actually do that. These animals will be thrilled to NOT be cooped up and on their own all day, almost every day. I will also have the opportunity to let my abused body heal, and to catch up on the “office” work that has been piling up while I was occupied elsewhere.
So I’m moving on. Or stepping back or … maybe sideways. It’s hard to say yet. But I feel this is the right thing to do, even if it’s not easy.
It’s been running fine. At least it has since the last time I had it towed in and repaired. That’s been a few weeks. I moved it so I could mow the driveway (yes, I mow my driveway) and when I went to move it back it started up, started to move then went completely dead. I mean big blue rock dead. Nothing at all, not even an idiot light lit up.
To make this short(ish) I fixed it. But what I found to be wrong is SO bizarre I have no idea how it got that way and was running at all.
It is running now. I told my boss that I do plan to be at work tomorrow after all. But if I don’t make it, check for reports of alien spacecraft sightings! Continue reading “Weirdness”
I’ve been working at the Humane Society of Jefferson County for just over 3 months. In the puppy room we have 8 inside/outside runs. There are chain link gates at either end and a sliding door in the wall that separates the inside from the outside. Outside the gates are 7 feet or so tall, inside, two runs have tall walls and gates (for jumpers) the rest have 3 foot high walls and gates. Two of these short runs had really sad gates on the inside. The bottom rails rusted completely away and fell off, leaving an oddly shaped door that was augmented by zip-tieing cat crate doors to the chain link to fill the growing gap between door and post.
I award points to my fellow staffers for ingenuity, but these were difficult to open and only going to degrade further. They did not present the best image of our facility either (they were ugly). It’s time to do something more permanent about this. So I took it upon myself to properly fix them. Continue reading “The Puppygate Affair”
The Rescue group I work with (Steele Away Home) was supposed to have a medical day yesterday (Friday) so I requested to be off work that day — since I have two dogs that needed to be spayed or neutered. But the mobile vet clinic would not start, so the medical day got rescheduled to next Thursday. I work Thursday — I’m off Monday and Wednesday. Monday I’m supposed to take Marie’s car to the mechanicn place.
Today I asked around work if anyone would swap days with me. Bobby said he needed to be off Monday because his wife has a doctor’s appointment and he needs to stay home to take care of their 3 kids. That would complicate getting Marie’s car to the mechanic, but we could drop it off Sunday, so I agreed to the swap. That means an extra trip into town and leaving her car in the parking lot overnight, but … it would be there so they could get started on it Monday morning.
When I got home there was a message on the answering machine. It was from Bobby. His wife’s appointment is Wednesday this week, not Monday as usual: the first time that’s ever happened! So he’d rather swap Wednesday for Thursday not Monday for Thursday.
Last week there was a fence/gate repair job that needed doing at work. A co-worker, Bobby, and I were asked to take a look at it and see what we could do. The boss had some parts that might help. They even had a toolbox … of sorts.
Bobby had recently been assigned the task of cleaning out several junk drawers, finding all the tools and putting them into a donated toolbox, sorting through the rest: toss the detritus and sort the usable “stuff” into big plastic bags by category. So our task now was simpler.
However, the toolbox consisted of 3 hammers, a half-dozen badly abused screw drivers, and a pair of pliers. We decided to bring tools from home and do the job the next day. Bobby wasn’t there the next day, so I accomplished the job with the tools I brought. All I was missing was a set of deep sockets (which I didn’t have but Bobby did) and a ratchet. But I did the job with a crescent wrench. The sockets do the job faster and with fewer bloody smears on the fencing, but a crescent wrench will do in a pinch.
I wanted to double the hinge at the top of the gate (which is at least 8 feet wide, maybe more) to keep it from twisting the hinge again. I lacked one part and a couple of bolts to do that. I picked up the hardware on my day off. I also decided to assemble a usable toolbox.
This, supposedly humorous, picture has been making the rounds on Facebook. I imagine we’ve all spaced out behind the wheel of our motor vehicles once or twice. What is frightening is that this post has collected dozens of comments from people who say they’ve done it. Many say it’s happened several times. Some say it happens to them frequently. That is worrisome, and the biggest reason I can think of to push for the development of self-driving cars.
My Twin-Brother-By-Another-Mother and I have discussed this a few times, and the following is a melding of our ideas.
Self driving motor vehicles will be a novelty that catches on slowly. People described above will be the primary customers: people who, for whatever reason, cannot manage to pay attention to their driving will see self driving cars as a great convenience. As the vehicles on the road become primarily self-driving, society will be ready for the next step. Continue reading “The Future of Motor Vehicles and Travel”
Another article from my moldy-oldies file, but when originally published folks did find it entertaining, so I’ll pop in in here.
Yesterday I renewed a relationship that has for many (many) years been neglected. No, not neglected: avoided; stringently and purposefully avoided. I made a trip to a dentist.
You see when I was a wee lad, long (long) ago, my parents would take me to the dentist every year for a check-up. And it seems he would always find a cavity or two to drill out and fill. Early on they used Novocain and I don’t remember it as being particularly torturous – not fun by any means, but not like being stripped naked, covered with honey and tossed into a fire ant hill. Continue reading “Adventures in Dentistry”
This tale was written years ago, filed, lost, found, lost again, recovered again, and now posted here. For friends and relatives who often jump to conclusions, this is ancient history:
I am not sick.
The small pick-up truck hurled along the winding, bumpy mountain highway, the tighter turns and bumpiest spots elicited increased groaning from him. The driver looked away from the road just long enough to glance at him and ask, “Are you alright?”
He was curled up in the passenger seat clutching his belly. He reached over and gently patted her arm, “Just ignore the screaming and wailing from this side and get us there as quickly – and safely – as you can.”
Eyes back on the road she steered through another curve and retorted, “If it gets too bad, I’ll just turn up the radio to drown you out.”