Going Gently

The Power Of The Dog

I took William to the vets today for his boosters and as we sat waiting we watched a man bringing in his dog to be euthanized.

It was a dreadful scene to witness, and was as upsetting as anything I have witnessed on intensive care.

The owner, who was presumably with his grown up son, refused to accompany the dog ( an elderly Labrador ) into the examination room and said his goodbyes in front of the half filled waiting room , with all of us sitting there with our pets trying not to notice.

" my girl......my poor poor girl" the man sobbed over and over again ,

His face pressed tightly into his dog's neck

The younger man was equally upset and looked incredibly at a loss at what to do until the receptionist

thankfully ushered owners and dog into what looked like an office, to continue their goodbyes in private.

We could still hear the man's sobs, with the door shut and one woman customer , almost in tears herself , quickly got up and walked outside.

I almost followed her.

William sat quietly on my knee watching the situation like All Welsh terriers do

And as I kissed the top of his head, grateful for his continued good health

This Kipling poem going around in my head as the waiting room customers and our animals sat in an icy silence

THERE is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.
When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find - it's your own affair, -
But ... you've given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!),
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone - wherever it goes - for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear!

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent,
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve;
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long -
So why in - Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

************************************************************

A Quick note of thanks to end with

I must thank three friends who have sent a load of home made crafts, knitting and sewing to sell at the flower Show. Anne Marie, Kathryn Mc Glynn and June Taylor, all wonderful stuff...thank you all!

Jools' bean squid!

And witche's chick!

More Entries! Way to go!

Jacqs kissing tomatoes

Fish in the sea by Jacqueline

Joyce's cabbage man

gill's creation!

Reality

Sometimes, just sometimes I would love to wake up in the morning feeling like

Like this!

This morning after two days of no sleep due to the heat, one night shift ofertime last night

And a morning of housework

I actually look like this

Who else feels as though they look like a bulldog chewing a wasp?

Notes to My 24 Year Old Self

I found this page from an old diary of sorts when I was sorting through a pile of photographs the other day.
It was a list, albeit a brief one , from a somewhat perfunctory interview preparation note to self.
The note was written on a Sunday afternoon in the summer of 1986, when I was travelling up to York
The interview was in the first slot on the Monday morning at Bootham Park Hospital, which is still a beautiful Georgian , albeit empty, building just outside the city walls.
I didn't have much to say did I?
I had experience of nursing drug and alcohol patients.
I had a sense of humour!
I was calm.......
And I was arrrhhhhhhhh about everything.
And that was it!
How I would have loved to have sat alongside my 24 yar old self on that train
I would have loved to have told that young man a few truths and pointers.
This is what I would have said

1) Don't sweat the small stuff.
2) Buy a house as soon as you can afford to do so. ( Buying a small terrace house in York would set you up very nicely indeed for the rest of your life!)
3) Take on board that being gay will be more accepted after the aids hysteria has died away, so much so that in only a half generation or so, gay people will be able to marry in the eyes of the law and with the acceptance of the majority of the population! ...how wonderful is that?
4) Travel more , experience more.......the world will soon become a very small place where everyone will have a phone that can give you immediate access to everything and everyone!
5) try to sort out your family shit , you are on borrowed time with loved ones and not so loved ones
6) dont waste time worrying about things you cannot change
7) When you are angry at something or someone say something
8) Buy a dog....don't leave it until you are 40
9) be loyal to friends , loyalty rebounds .
10) Have confidence and hold your head up.

Big Titted Tomatoes & Other Stories

32 degrees here in Wales !

Early this afternoon I went over to the Ukrainian village with extra water feeders. As I filled the lurid purple paddling pool for the geese, I was suddenly confronted by three small white bantams who tip-toed out of the long grass from the direction of the graveyard, to drink

All three are very young. Well cared for and tiny and it was with some difficulty that I managed to corral them in Rooster Cogburn's old run.

I have no idea where all three have come from.

Irene and Sylvia are feeling the heat today and Have spent most of their time lying in the shade. I managed to grab Irene after offering her a tomato ( she goes wild over a juicy tomato! ) and I managed to relieve her of some wool by hand stripping her front quarters. Unfortunately Soay sheep are terribly temperamental and wild so I only managed a few handfuls before she was off like shit off a shovel.

Irene and Sylvia

And finally , thanks to Joyce for her big titted creation
( we need ten more please to beat last year's entries)

Oiling The Cogs

Islwyn the village elder is a bit of an odd job man of some note, and so it's not unusual for people to ring him up regularly in order to get something done about their house. Sailor John was an electrician before he retired and is, I am sure, well used to people asking for advice about wiring problems and the like and Animal helper Pat, an excellent seamstress, has been asked many a time to run up the hem on old Trevor's curtains
It's not as though people want things for nothing.
But brains and skills are there to be picked sometimes.

Over the past few weeks , my nursing qualification has proved to be useful.
I have been asked to give my opinion on a patch of healing skin. I have been requested to check if I thought someone had suffered a stroke ( they hadn't but I was correct in my diagnosis of an urinary tract infection) and only yesterday I was asked to call up to see the visitor of one of the Flower Show exhibitors who had cut her leg on the Gop, to see if she needed a stitch or two.
She did.

All simple stuff to be sure but small favours do " oil the cogs" in a community I always think.
The wife of the chap with the skin problems thanked me the other day for my advice...I laughed and told her she would be providing the blooms for the tea tables at the Flower show from her garden.
Seeing the girl with the grazed knee cemented good relations with her hosts and doing a few observations on the chap with a bad bladder led to a small bunch of summer flowers being left by the back door.

Oiling the cogs.........makes life a whole lot easier.