Recent happenings in my world

 

This is Quinn. He is almost 10.

I lost my precious Gideon about 6 weeks ago. We think it was some kind of blood cancer. He had pneumonia and a collapsed lung and even though he was treated for over a month with antibiotics and various combinations thereof, he was going downhill so fast. He was refusing to eat or drink and I could not get his meds down him any longer so I had to make that very tough decision to let him go. The house became so quiet and lonely and although Gideon was not a noisy dog, the silence when he was gone was deafening. 

A week ago I went back to the shelter to look at senior dogs. Although I had thought about a more middle aged one, the seniors hold my heart, especially those who have been in the shelter for a while. Enter this black lab/pit bull (I think) mix who was black, white areas on his chest and feet and sprinkled with gray. This was his second trip to the shelter which meant at least two homes and he would have had his year's anniversary in June. H'mm? Black dog, senior, sheltered almost a year and a double return? Just my kind of dog. 

I thought he would be easy but black labs don't slow down until they die. He is so full of energy, I get tired just watching him run. We walk every morning and I have had to purchase an Easy Walk harness because he is so curious and high energy, he would pull me off my feet if I wasn't careful. We all know where that might lead. 

In typical lab fashion, he loves food; any food; any time of day or night; but he doesn't get in your face and beg. He sits back a respectable distance and begs. He doesn't like water. (I know, a Labrador that doesn't like water) He is not scared of thunder or loud noises but he doesn't like small critters, think rabbits and squirrels, or children, or other dogs. Luckily, I have none of those. He does love people and wags his tail all the time. 

Now I have bragged on my new companion, this is the rest of the story: I have FINALLY found a surgeon to remove the Parotid tumor on my face. It has been almost 3 years since it was first diagnosed and thanks to Dr. Vosler, at First Physicians, I have a date for outpatient surgery. How surprised was I when I went for my initial appointment this week. The most professional medical office I have been in for several years. Not that I think I will change my GP or anything but this office popped with efficiency. I was speechless and left there, even facing surgery, with a smile on my face. 

7 more weeks of school. Whew, this year has been really quick to pass. I still have my journalism conference in Orlando in a couple of weeks and a long weekend spent in the middle of nowhere with a friend to just sit on a front porch, watch the water and drink coffee in the morning. The only issue will be the drive up but I am hoping some of our visitors will be long gone back to where they are from. Fingers crossed. 

I was also accepted to study George Washington and the formation of our government at Mt. Vernon for a week so I am super excited about that. Surgery will be over; I will be healed and headed to Arlington, VA to absorb more history to bring back to my classroom for my final year. Yep, I did decide to do one more year and maybe more. Let's see how I feel next year.

Until the next time, stay safe, hug your pets, and keep pushing forward. 

Little things begin to be big things

Photo/Azisa

 In about six months, I will be 67 years young. I have noticed over the past couple of years that I am bothered by things that I used to let roll off my back. I thought it must be my age because I never remember being bothered by these things when I was younger. 

It began two years ago when I lost the best doctor I have ever had, Krista Toomre. It was right after Covid-19 and she was moving home to Colorado. She had been my GP for 20 years. She was so down to earth and I am sure saved me and my insurance company lots of money by treating me for common ailments instead of sending me to a specialist. I like her replacement okay, but she is not the same. If Dr. Toomre needed to send me to a specialist, she would send me to who she considered the best, even if they were outside the group. My new doctor has not been here long enough to know the best docs in Sarasota. 

Then, my gastroenterologist, Dr. Martin left. She was also excellent. My new doc is a good doc, but with no personality so to speak of. I do like his physician's assistant, and I see her more than I do him. 

The final straw was the retirement of my mechanic. I did not find out about that until I had a problem with my truck. This leads me to the last part of my story and when several little things became big things to me. 

I went out to go to work and tried to crank my truck. It would not catch. It did not sound like a battery problem or a starter problem, but with the new vehicles, you just never know. I came inside, called work, filled out the two forms we must fill out to call in, typed up some substitute plans for my classes, which never reached my classes and then called my insurance for a tow truck. Or tried. They had no companies in the area who could come to my house. 

Most tow companies opened at 8 a.m. What? Where are my 24 hour companies? I finally found one and called at 6 a.m. He said they could have a truck at my house by 8 a.m. $100 charge.

At 7:30, I phoned my mechanic, Chris at Jim Taylor. I got a strange answering machine which was unusual because Chris was always in early but I left a message with some strange guy on it. At 8, there was no tow truck so I called the mechanic back. Chris and his wife had retired and sold the business. Once again, I had been having my truck serviced there for 20 years. From their old shop behind Vengroff Williams to the new place on Washington Blvd., Chris and Elsa had taken care of me. I knew if Chris had my truck, he would get it diagnosed and fixed in short order. 

So I let the new guy know that a tow truck was coming with my truck and what was going on. They I called the tow company because they were still not at the house. Guess what? It was going to be another hour or two because they had been called to an emergency tow. So now I wait. 

I knew the later it was delivered to the mechanic, the less chance I had of getting it worked on that day. Sure enough, it was 11 a.m. when the tow truck picked up my truck and 11:30 by the time it arrived at the shop. Then another phone call. Why was my truck there? What was it doing? Ugh! So I explained for the 3rd time and he said they would see what they could do. 

I called at 3 and the truck had not been looked at so I called Enterprise Rental because they have a lot one business down from the mechanic. I had to Uber to the mechanic to get my keys and lanyard with my ID from my truck, walk to Enterprise to pick up my rental and then I should be good. 

All was fine and then Enterprise told me they had a $300 security deposit. $300 for a $60 rental. I was appalled. What on earth would people do if they didn't have a charge card or cash or whatever. I let the people there know I thought it disgusting what companies were doing to people in these situations and they were more worried I would write a negative review of them that my being upset. They told me they would still rent me a car. I wonder if they would have refused had I continued to ask them about that $300. They were very nice and I know the policy was not theirs but all the same, I was not happy. 

The next day when I finally got my truck back they could not tell me what was wrong. They did tell me they had cleaned a part and put it back on which cause my truck to start again over and over. They also charged me to do a complete diagnostic which showed my battery failed their test, as did my brakes, my struts, my windshield washer, my air filter etc. Given that I have that truck serviced every 3,000 and am not quite sure all those things need fixing, I may be looking for a new mechanic. I did get a new battery and was not pleased with the $299 charge for it which was one of the reasons I am disgruntled. 

When I was 40, things like these would have not been a big deal. Now, they  create stress in my world. I have a short vacation planned in November; a getaway for 3 days in Crystal River. I am looking forward to that. 

Another senior comes to stay

 

This is the newest member of my family. His name is Gideon. He is close to 10 years old, would have the cutest overbite if he had front teeth and looks intimidating enough to scare most people. Not that it was my intent to scare people, but I am not worried about people breaking in to my home. I honestly believe they would have to kill him if he didn't want you in the house. 

He is really a big mush face. I think American Bulldog mixed with something, probably hound but it doesn't really matter to me. It was a quick call after I had said I was going to wait awhile. I did not wait as long as I thought I would. The house was too lonely and quiet. 

He doesn't get on the furniture. I have no idea why. He is totally housebroken. He loves people food, especially anything with cheese on it. He always cleans his plate, regardless of what is on it. 

He likes his orthopedic beds and his tail thumps continually when you speak to him. He follows me everywhere and at first, would not go out in the yard by himself. I am not sure if he thought I was going to leave him back there or if he thought he was being dumped. 

I have found I must walk him when it is light outside because although I have no problem controlling him on the leash, if he see a rabbit or something in the dark and I miss it, I could go down. I don't want to go down so we changed our walking habits. 

I kept his name, Gideon, which means Great Warrior and I think that fits him. He will stay as long as he is in good health and not suffering but we already know he has hip dysplasia and probably hasn't had the easiest life. His life changed when he came in my house. Welcome home, Gideon. 

As retirement nears

Nearing retirement brings out very mixed feelings with me and I am not sure why. Is it because I am going to miss some of the students or perhaps my journalism classes? Is it because I hate housework and all that entails and cannot imagine having time to have a spotless house. Horrors! I filed for my Medicare Part B to begin in January. I would probably have done this anyway because of the cost of our insurance which pays for almost nothing. I am eligible so why not? I also filed for my Social Security to begin in January. I am eligible for full benefits and have decided what am I waiting for? I don't want to work and then die. But does that mean I have to stop working? I have always really enjoyed working, except telmarketing. I hated that job. I worked for so long at the newspaper. I started very young and was in the business over 40 years. I have been teaching 12 and did several jobs in-between. I have been working consistently since I began working at 15 for the Bonanza Steakhouse as a busser. I made $.50 an hour plus tips which the waitresses shared with us. Yesterday, my truck would not start and I had to miss work because I had to get the truck in the shop, figure out my old mechanic had retired which meant the new guys had no idea who I was and I became just like everyone else trying to get their vehicle running. The tow company arrived almost 5 hours past when I called, 3 hours past when they said they would be there. The rental car was cheap, only $60 but the deposit was $300. Horrible policy. What if I didn't have a charge card? I am glad it will be returned today. I thought while I was hanging around the house with no vehicle all the cleaning I could do. Horrors! I watched The Sopranos until time to pick up the rental car.

Animals create more readership

Tega on the couch with her buddy, Bert, who was our houseguest. 

When I first began blogging, I was gainfully employed by the Sarasota Herald-Tribune and wrote a blog several times a week which was featured by them. I ran news articles about animals, featured local rescues and highlighted rescue people. I had a blast doing it and even remember when I approached Leigh, who was the editor in charge of such things many years ago, to get her approval. The paper was flush with money at that time and most papers featured an animal writer including the Orlando Sentinel and the Miami Herald. It is was a better time for animals in that they were featured more often with more attention to the rescue world.

That all changed the last year of my employment there and I continued to have a website and blog after I left as long as I could afford it. Unfortunately, all good things come to an end and due to financial restraints, those who know me know about those, I had to give up my website. 

I began writing this blog on Aging several years ago and although I do have people read occasionally, I don't really promote it except for sharing it on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. It is a great vehicle for me to vent about politics and other issues which just irritate me like a splinter in my ass. I have no one to vent to but occasionally someone will comment and tell me they agree with me. I feel better after venting, even when no one is listening.

Yesterday, after losing my last dog, I blogged about her in this column and did as I normally do with sharing and had 14 people read the column. I was stunned. I never have that many people read what I have written. 

So today I am posting a picture of Tega and Bert. Both have gone to the Rainbow Bridge but when this was taken last Christmas, they were still holding their own and would let you know about it. Both would play for about 20 seconds, then lay down and rest. Bert would talk to Tega and Tega would listen. I often wondered what he was saying to her as she continued to lay on the couch. Unless things change, this Christmas I will not have either. 

I keep waiting on a dog to come around the corner of the house and ask to go outside. Or have one come up behind me in the bathroom. The house seems very quiet with no dog but I am sure that can't be true because they don't really make noise. 

I won't have to worry about fireworks this year. Most of the pets I have had were terrified on the 4th of July. I remember one year when I had to call the Sheriff's Department on my new next door neighbors. They had cannons in the street which was terrifying for me. The smoke was so thick I could not see my neighbor's house across the street. The law has changed now and they are allowed, but now they won't because they think I am the crazy old lady next door and have no idea what would happen if they did. 

I even had a dream about dogs last night that I remember. 3 little dogs came under my backyard fence and I had to catch them and take them to Animal Services. None of them were chipped, had collars or any identifying features. One was white, one was brown, and one was black. They were puppies of different breeds. They all came to me and all found homes. I was glad in my dream. I guess this means I need to wait a little while still to adopt another friend. I am okay with that. 

A Home Without a Dog

Tega

I cannot remember a time in my life where I did not have a pet. Most of the time that has been a dog and most of that time there have been two dogs. (I am allergic to cats) That ended yesterday.

After the death of Elsa several months ago, Tega became my last dog and was single. I had made up my mind that when I felt I could not longer give two dogs what they needed every day, I would keep the pack at two. Tega and I became that two. 

Tega came to me after spending too much time in a shelter after being returned too many times by adopters. The first one I remember was the vet tech. She was going to love Tega and she was going to deal with all her quirks. Right? Until Tega's quirks did not align with the vet tech who insisted on keeping Tega's nails cut to the quick because no dog she owned would have long nails. This resulted in her husband trying to hold Tega while this was happening. He ended up getting bit and she was returned to the shelter. 

The last time she was returned after a couple of years. The young man was in tears but Tega continued to bust out of his rental home during thunderstorms and he could not afford to continue to replace doors in his home. He wouldn't keep her in a kennel while he was working. He thought that was cruel. What was cruel was seeing her face when she was returned. She had no idea what she had done wrong. She was devastated. I promised her then I would find her a home that would keep her forever. I had no idea it would be three years later and would be with Elsa and I. 

She was okay with most people and most dogs. She adored my son and really liked men more than women. She could be bitchy and would show teeth if she was tired and wanted to be left alone. She was not fond of children. I believe when she was sleeping and snarling, showing her teeth, she was going after all those things she was afraid of.

She was terrified of thunder. She because obsessed with trying to get away from it, especially if she was alone. She would literally attempt to chew and claw her way out of anything she was in. The only thing she felt comfortable in was a hard sided, airline crate. If I was at home, she would hide in my closet which was where she slept. There was no drug, no thunder shirt, nothing that would calm her until the thunder passed. 

She developed neurological issues almost a year ago. One of her eyes was covered by her third eyelid so she began hitting things on her left side that she could not see. She began losing weight and stumbling around. I had to stop her walks because she would stumble so badly, I was afraid she would fall and I would not be able to get her up and back home. She lost control of her bowels and would go outside and inside several times, then poop when she laid down. 

A week or so ago, she stopped eating. She would nibble and once in a while eat one of her favorite snacks, but the weight loss became even more noticeable. The photo at the top of the page was take the day before she died by her Auntie Violet.

 I am in no rush to get another dog. I am going to take my time and wait until I am ready.  I will, of course, adopt another senior. Another one that someone has thrown away for stupid reasons. I think a boy this time, but he/she may pick me. The house feels empty. I have been cleaning but the dog hair still clings. I am sad but I know she is running with her old buddies from Satchel's Last Resort, Elsa, Buckeye and Brody, playing chase and catching balls. She won't lack for anything. I am at peace with that. 

My book would be banned for sure

 

I tell a lot of stories to my students. Most of them are G rated because they are my students but I also find it necessary to be honest with them when it is possible. The ban on what teachers can and cannot say in their classrooms ties in perfectly with the book ban that doesn't exist and several other vague laws designed to fire up voters of the red type and keep parents on edge about what their children are learning.

I was lucky in that we did not have social media or even computers when I was educated in the same public school system that I teach in today. Many things that happen in high school today happened back then. There is just no record of it because we had no cell phones or anything else to use to document stupid teenage actions. 

I could start off my book talking about teens having sex in inappropriate places. The place I am thinking of was a science lab at the old Lakeland Junior High School by my best friend's brother. I won't use names but anyone who knows me from back then would know him. He got caught not once, but twice. So when one of the students or two, or three, get cause in a compromising position, I am not as aghast as many of my co-teachers were. 

How about my friends who were twins? She inappropriately got pregnant, her daughter was raised by her father and she is dead from drugs. Her brother, who I heard was gay which I did not know in high school, died of AIDS at the beginning of the virus. 

When our students are suspended for vaping in the bathroom, I remember the smoke billowing out of the bathrooms in Lakeland High School or the crowd behind the football locker room where cigarettes were not the only thing being smoked. 

I would have to include all the rock and roll concerts we went to with no parents. My first was the Monkees when I was 12. By the time I had graduated from high school I had seen everyone from Led Zeppelin, Cat Stevens, oops, can't talk about him because he converted to being a Muslim. The Rolling Stones at the Gator Bowl in Jacksonville when my Mom thought I was spending the night with a girlfriend. I never told her about that one. 

How about my friend who liked a guy who was of another race? Her parents sent her off to church school and took her out of public school so she could not associate with the "wrong" group of kids. I saw her after high school. She had not changed and no longer spoke to her parents.

I could talk about hanging at Joker Marchant stadium with the Lakeland Tigers, many who later became Detroit Tigers. Driving my 1962 Impala all over the state of Florida during the summer I turned 16 to watch them play.  Playing Spades and drinking beer; what trouble could 18 year old girls get into 2 years later. Once again, no names. It was fun. 

Better yet, how about hanging with Merle Haggard and the Strangers on a couple of road trips. Talk about fun. But much of what we did is probably not for student ears or their eyes, should I happen to write a book. 

Did you know I used to fly whenever I wanted to go somewhere. By myself. all over the country. No fear here. How many nice people I met, many became friends for life. 

I had a subscription to Ms. magazine for years. I worked on Jimmy Carter's presidential campaign.. I went skinny dipping in many of the lakes in Polk County. I was the first female student to take auto mechanics because only boys were allowed. That took Daddy arguing the point of equality to the school board. I cheered at the dinner table when Roe v Wade was ruled on in the Supreme Court. I was a wild child. 

But I didn't think so at the time. I maintained a good average in high school. I was student president of the Tempo club, which was our version of the student PTA. I was secretary of our DCT class. I had some of the best friends in the world, many who have gone on to do good things. 

But they would ban my book. They would say it was indoctrinating kids. They would say how inappropriate I had been as a teen. What they can't know is how independent I am or how smart. They don't understand raising a child alone or struggling when getting laid off from a job you thought you would retire from. Going back to school and paying for it yourself so you could teach school because you loved the kids. Working 3 jobs so I didn’t lose my house after the layoff during the recession.Guess who was President?

There are still tons of stories I could tell but this just a blog.  Yep, my book would be banned.