Gene's Blog

Odds and ends

Random thoughts maybe. Odd things have been running through my mind. Well, anyone who’s looked at the main site already knows that. I’m just talking about the past few days.

It turns out I hate Christmas music. The last few years it has annoyed me more each year. I do NOT want those songs running through my head. At 58, I could go the rest of my life happily never hearing “I’m dreaming of” again, or anything at all to do with sleigh bells in the snow. I have been listening to the same music by the same artists for two months of every year of my and I am god awful sick of it. All of it. I cringe in elevators, stores, at commercials. I wonder why it is that no one in the last 100 years has managed to come up with a new song. New artists, yes, singing the same old songs. I wonder if that isn’t part of what I think is wrong with our world. We are absolutely unable to break free of our past. And our future is being held hostage. Maybe those songs are just part of what I feel about that. I am so ready for a change and what I get is White Christmas. Again.

My dog, who some of you have met on my other site, Cisco, is 12 years old, just a month over. He’s been with me for what will be 12 years on January 5th, or in my home, he’s been mine for what will be 11 years on February 11th. Somehow the idea of losing him had never occurred to me until what will be two years this May. He began having difficulty moving his bowels, yeah, I know, nice conversation. But if you’re eating dinner while reading this, well, then that’s your own fault. He had an enlarged prostate, and the fix for what was causing his difficulty, I was told. So I had him neutered. Brandon didn’t want to do that and I’ve honored his wishes all these years, but I thought Cisco’s life and comfort more important finally and so agreed. That went well, but the symptoms only improved a little. Last April they got a lot worse, so I took him in early for his annual visit – he’s figured out he doesn’t like the place. EVERY time I’ve taken him there, he’s moved his bowels nicely, right in the middle of their waiting room. He NEVER does that anywhere else. But he does there. But he was having real trouble with that then and I was worried, turned out that being there helped quite a lot. A real LOT. In several places. Repeatedly. Which made the reason I brought him in suddenly seem a little silly. But they took him in back for nails and to check him out and when his veterinarian brought him back to me, she said she had bad news. He has a tumor, she wanted to biopsy it the next week but she felt sure it was cancer.

Until then I simply had not thought about losing him. Dogs on the farm, large mixed breeds, those that survived, lived long and I was expecting him at 115 pounds and very tall to do the same. It was an unhappy weekend, I spent it thinking thoughts I wasn’t ready to face. He is the only grandchild I will ever have from Brandon and my last living connection to my son. He was not happy about going back the next Monday morning. He acted like he was being punished. And I felt like that was what I was doing. They called me about three and asked me to wait til 5:30 to pick him up as he was slow coming out of the anesthesia. I did that. She told me right away that it wasn’t cancer, but that it was inoperable as well. I could not pin her down on what that meant. She just kept saying if he got worse, I’d know and it would be time to decide what to do then. She gave me a recommendation for a human medicine to soften his stool that she thought might help. He’s a big dog and there’s a lot of room back there, it depends on whether the tumor grows or not. Well, I’ve only had to use that stool softener a few times over the summer but the past month has been different. It doesn’t seem to work any more. He’s not in discomfort, I can still the shine in his eyes, but he has this urge he can’t control, that produces nothing, or virtually nothing. When he was little he’d take anything I gave him. Not so any longer. I have to hide the medication in a piece of cheese which he swallows without chewing, sort of the way he eats meat. But the dosage now is far beyond what is recommended for humans and I am afraid that tumor is growing. And I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose him. I’m not ready for that. But I don’t want him in discomfort either.

So, we’ve got snow now, for the last three weeks and he’s decided that he must be IN snow when what little happens happens. It turns out that snow up ones pants leg isn’t comfortable. I haven’t owned a pair of boots in, well, probably 45 years. I’m not investing in $100 hiking boots that I’ll never use again once he is gone. So I decided I would violate my own principles and visit Wal-mart. I don’t like their policies, in any way, and I never shop there, but I decided cheap was what I wanted, something I could just throw away when I don’t need them any longer. And I’m honestly not sure I’ll need them this whole winter. I went there, down the mens aisle and found these $40 boots that looked liked they’d do the trick but, I was NOT going to spend that much money on something I don’t need and won’t ever use again. So I looked a bit more, it was a bit of a jumbled mess, and I found this pair of size 10 boots, which is a little odd because I have a size 8 foot, that fit, and were wide enough at the top so I could shove my pants down inside. I didn’t look beyond that, $17, so I bought them and when I got home I cut off the tags, cuz he needed to go out – that is one of the issues, he feels this urge so often, and when I cut the tags I noticed they were women’s boots. Which explains the size 10, I guess. And the damn things pull my socks off every time I take them off AND they have some sort of velcro from hell fastening in the back, horribly awkward things. But I hope need them several years. Gawd, I love that big puppy. But I am going to have to take him back to his vet, to see if there is something stronger to give him. Actually, I do know something that will work, but I only made that mistake once when he was a puppy – never give a puppy creamed corn. You’ll pay for that believe me. Still I am just worried so much about him. I don’t want him to hurt. Ever. I don’t “see” that right now, but I feel it.

So Christmas just isn’t feeling very Christmasy this year, thought that is NOT why I hate that music. My mother, 78 years old, easy to keep track of, she was 20 when I was born and her birthday is in January, so I just add 20 years and always know, has her own issues. She is living with my sister and brother in law, but is diabetic, with circulatory issues, blood pressure issues and now, some heart issues. She’s been in the hospital since last Thursday, they put in a pacemaker on Friday, but can’t get her blood pressure to come down from the 180’s no matter what drug they try. She sounds fine when I talk to her, looks fine, but still, they can’t get these things under control. Now her side of the family, well, both sides but for my dad and his dad, are long-lived, I expect many more years with her. It doesn’t matter what I thought at 7 in that first light, this is the woman who raised me and who has loved me with all heart, unreservedly, undeservedly and without hesitation all of my life. And my last real connection to my family as well. When she is gone the rest of it falls apart. I know. But I’m not ready to give her up either.

What a month it has been, if I could just somehow get rid of that music, I think I could deal with all this a little better. My son, as I mentioned earlier has had his own issues, but things are looking up a bit on that front, or possibly so. I wonder why it is that every christmas feels this way. They were never easy when the boys were little either, I never had much money, somehow every flipping year, something would happen, usually to my car, that ate up christmas present money. Things are better now than then, but the feeling hasn’t changed. I still hate this season. Not because I am anti-Christian or any nonsense like that, I am anti-the economic boom christmas is expected to be. Black Friday offends me, the commercialism of the season offends me. The American culture of spend, spend, spend, offends me. What the season was about when I was little was something softer. Yes, presents and trees, but spirit was present then, I always felt that. I haven’t in so long. I doubt I ever will again. I feel like a Stranger in a Strange Land, sort of outside looking in. It is an odd sensation but true. And I can’t help but wonder what another year will bring. As Taylor Swift sings, there’d be teardrops on my guitar, if I could play one. So it goes, life. One day I hope to understand it. much love, :^) gene

If today brings even one choice your way
choose to be a bringer of the light :^) gene