No, I haven’t forgotten about my “Life with Olive” blog. I
had hoped to blog about getting back to normal after the Covid virus had been virtually
eradicated by vaccination. Instead, one side decided to make vaccination a
partisan political issue by refusing to wear masks or get vaccinated. As a result,
the delta variant spread like wildfire (which is another issue the right-wing
refuses to take seriously) so that we are looking at masking requirements and
worse again. One might have thought that Donald Trump would have put science
and the country first and urged his supporters to get vaccinated. Again…..well,
this is Donald Trump we are talking about.
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My understanding is that Olive was born August 1, 2011. That
means August 1 was her tenth birthday. Unfortunately, it was not entirely a
happy birthday for her. I grilled some chicken for her and my sister gave her a
dog puzzle that I think she will enjoy. The hitch? She came down with an ear
infection a few days before her birthday.
I went off to a fiddle camp at Ashokan music, arts, and
nature center, leaving Olive at Candlewick. After I picked her up at the end of
camp, I noticed her shaking her head as if she was trying to shake something
out of her ear. I tried cleaning out her ear, but it seemed to get worse. I
called the vet on Friday and got an appointment for Monday. Over the weekend
the infection seemed to get even worse. Finally, we got to the vet on Monday
morning. The vet cleaned out Olive’s ears, applied some medicine that will
remain in her ears for a week, and gave me three medicines—an antibiotic, a
prednisone, and a probiotic—to give her orally. I am happy to say that I have
had very little trouble getting Olive to take her meds, though I had to buy
some roast beef from the deli to wrap the larger probiotic pills in. Peanut
butter worked for the other pills.
I am happy to say that the meds seem to be working and that
Olive seems to be recovering well. The ear looks worse than it really is
because the vet had to shave some fur off to treat the ear. I thought to
include a photo of the ear, but decided not to as the ear, for now, looks
pretty gross. At least Olive is enjoying walks and playing Frisbee, lively as
ever.
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On August 6, a few days after Olive’s birthday, I was
scheduled for some minor skin surgery. Nothing major, just a growth my dermatologist
wanted removed from the top of my head. I made sure to give Olive both a walk
and some Frisbee time in the morning before going to my 8:30 appointment. That
left little time for breakfast, which ended up being some oatmeal, grape juice,
and a banana.
The surgeon got right to work giving me a local anesthesia and
removing a small section of skin from my scalp. I felt virtually nothing during
the entire procedure, which took less than an hour. After leaving the surgeon’s
office I decided it was early enough to stop at a nearby diner for eggs, toast,
potatoes, and coffee. One more stop on the way home at the grocery store for a
sandwich to eat for lunch and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, which the surgeon
told me to use to clean the wound when I take the bandage off on Monday.
I had arranged with my sister to give Olive a walk around
ten, a big help since the surgeon told me to take it easy for a few days.
Subsequent walks were slow and leisurely around the Georgetown Drive circle.
Olive seemed to understand that I was not feeling well, though later on she
seemed a bit put out that she was not getting her Frisbee sessions.
Lunch consisted of the tuna sandwich I bought at the grocery
store. Around 1:00 pm the anesthetic wore off. I expected the operation area to
feel like a bad scrape. Instead, it felt like someone had hit me with a
baseball bat. By supper I was not feeling up to the task of cooking, so I
decided to eat at a restaurant. Glastonbury has a number of lively “hot spots”,
which I was not in the mood for, so I headed to a family place. Rather, a
family place that seems to try to pretend to be a hot spot. It tries, but most
of the clientele seems to be senior citizens and much of the rest families with
kids. Television screens everywhere showing an Olympic soccer match. The place
was a bit crowded, and I was seated at a high table in the middle.
So why is it that restaurants seem to think single people all
want to sit at the bar? There were people milling around on both sides of me. I felt as if I was at Grand Central station in New
York, had gone to the somewhat upscale Oyster Bar located in a lower level of
the station, and been seated at the only table in the middle of the grand
concourse. I ordered fish and chips with a root beer (the surgeon ordered me to
have no alcohol for at least a day) and found it to be ok but not particularly
good. I suppose I was a bit grumpy from the surgery and the sore scalp. At such
times I try to adjust my outlook by imagining that I had just been trekking through
the north woods for a week with nothing to eat but whatever roots and berries I
found out there. If I suddenly came to a family restaurant and was offered a
plate of fish and chips with root beer, I would probably think it nirvana. With
that thought I had my fish, paid the bill, and drove home.
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So, with that, Olive and I are recuperating from our
respective ordeals and I hope that our next entry will be much brighter and
cheerier. Happy birthday, Olive.
