Friday, March 04, 2011

Way off the Surreal Scale

Today my mom received last rights.

It's a huge Catholic thing. My sister saw her at lunch and thought she looked really bad so she asked one of the parish priests over. Father C-- (oh dear, I've already forgotten his name!) is a stereotypical Irish Catholic priest. In and out in about 5 minutes. Which is probably a good thing -- didn't give Sister a chance to freak out.

But it was a weird experience and I'm not entirely sure that my brain has fully accepted what I just saw.

Why is a whistle the pinnacle of cleanliness?
Why are clams the hallmark of happiness?
How well does anyone know the back of their hands?

Common phrases baffle me. Of course, most of life does.

When I was a kid and would look for something, whenever I found it someplace obvious my mom would say "if it was a snake it would have bit you." Well if it was a snake, I wouldn't have been looking for it.

Just some musings under the influence of Vicodin. I was in the hospital this week. (In ER on Tuesday, back on Wednesday, admitted overnight and home today.) Another of my rampant mystery infections. Woke up to a breakfast of morphine. Hoping to doze off to an equally heady mixture of cat purr and cozy mystery.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Puppy Update

I'm doing better with accepting that I couldn't have Gretchen. I know she'll be happy where she is. I know Cipher will be happier as the solo queen of the house. But yesterday's adoption event was a little weird because I swear I kept looking out the window to see if Gretchen's new family were bringing her back. Of course I hope they don't! I was just in a weird mood.

While out walking yesterday's cutest member (Red, a 7-month old chihuahua puppy that absolutely struts and actually stopped traffic), I was stopped by the family that adopted another of our wonderful dachshunds. Abby was at an adoption event last month, spending most of it in my lap. Her family came in and fell in love. They called dad into the store. The first words I heard out of his mouth as he reluctantly came in was "Ok sweetie, but we're looking, we are not getting a dog." I swear he took one look at Abby in my lap and I could see him fall in love. Dad was the one who adopted the dog. He was hooked.

The family told me all about Abby. How she slept on their bed the first night. How after only a 30-minute standoff, Abby and the resident cat achieved detente. In the month Abby has been with her family they've gone up to the snow where she leapt from the car into a 3-foot snow bank and completely disappeared. Her family immediately panicked, but Abby pops up a few seconds later, long snout covered in snow and happy as a, well, really happy dog.

They kept saying how lucky they felt. How a friend who is a vet met Abby and told them what a special dog she is. The mom of the family teared up telling me how happy they all were. And she hugged me, because I had helped point them in the right direction.

All of this made me feel so much better about Gretchen going home. It reminded me of why I volunteer at the shelter. And it reinforced what I had already accepted -- that once again it's all about doing what's best for the dog, not what's easiest for me.

Sorry for my wallow into selfishness. You know how it is with unrequited love.