Thought Patterns

Margaret O'Doggal, aka Maggie, was let go today.

We first found Maggie out in Leicester on a road that was part of Lorna's mail route. She was our first "road rescue" and has been a part of our lives since 1994.

Maggie was a cool lady. She never really played with toys, but she hoarded them. Even Zeus, big mighty King Zeus, wouldn't go get a ball if it rolled to close to her. She'd not play with it or really even look at it, but she dared him to come get it. What she loved to play with was small rocks and chunks of cardboard. Even then it wasn't really playing as much as enjoying it.

She never really liked men. I explained this to my step-dad when they come down to visit once. He was sitting in the living room and she was staring at him. "Look, see? She likes me!" Jim said. "No, Jim, she's telling you that you're in her seat."

Maggie has been getting slow from arthritis. It was hard for her to get up and it was to the point we were having to pick her up several times a day. She was getting stuck in dips out in the yard, too. Lorna and I had recently discussed where the line is for Maggie in terms of quality of life. So far, Maggie seemed to be mentally fine. She was home, responsive, and still stealing from the trashcan.

I had to run some errands today and came home at around 3ish. I opened the back door to let everyone in and Maggie was one of the first in line. Some dipshit in the neighborhood decided to start target practice which meant big brave Joella was under the desk. She came out at one point and got tangled up in the cords for one of the fish tanks.

After I got all that straightened out, that's when I saw that Maggie had moved from the blankets and was further out in the living room. She looked like she was trying to get up. Her legs were kicking about but where several inches off the floor vs scraping and scratching to get up. I went over, calmed her down, and saw she was drooling pretty bad. I tried to pick her up and she was both stiff as a board and a sack of wet pasta at the same time. She couldn't seem to figure out where her feet were and couldn't walk. I let her lay back down.

I called Lorna (who is up in PA) and we talked about what might be wrong. Stroke. Internal rupture. Spine injury. We decided I'd call and get a vet appt for tomorrow. When I called, they said they actually had one this afternoon. So I took her in.

Maggie loved car rides. She loved sticking her head out the window and sniffing. But today, she never raised her head. At the vet's office, they came out to carry her in and she never looked around then, either. The vet and I talked about what might be wrong, what they would do to find out, and what the treatment was for each possible scenario. We both knew we were just putting off the inevitable decision. Maggie was 14. She had bowel problems. She could barely walk before this. She was in a lot of pain.

The vet was thinking stroke or spinal injury. Her gums were very pale which meant she was bleeding somewhere. Could be in the brain.

So, I let Maggie go on. I told her to go to Zeus and Max. To find Jake and Bandit. I petted her head while the doc did her thing. Then the doc and I sat on the floor together and talked about Maggie, about her dogs, about the other dogs in our lives. And I got up and came home. Alone.

I will miss Maggie. I will miss her deep bark letting me know it is time to get up (Maggie was an alarm clock even I couldn't ignore). I will miss her guarding whatever she thinks needs to be guarded (which often didn't need to be nor wanted to be). I will miss her toothless snarl at Sam and big Sam backing up from it.

Maggie, Casey, and Joella

No short stories this time. Just didn't work out the one I was working on for y'all.

Instead, feel free to go to the aquatic photo gallery for Sumo and The Gang.

I wish I had time to upload the pics of the brand new babies!

I've said numerous times, here and elsewhere, that the world revolves around priorities. What is more important than something else at any given moment.

Life and Limits

Friend of mine is dying. Well, technically we all are, but Lew really is. The time line from the doc is "many months to a couple of years". Narrows it down. It is frustrating that he and Elena are so many hours away. Right at the edge of the "easy day drive" limit, you know?

Lew and Elena's priorities are way different than mine. Yours are different from the person next to you. Etc etc. It is what makes the world go 'round, that difference, that constant changing.

Life and Leisure

I have critters around me, some furred, some finned, some…shelled? I have three goldfish and a bunch of snails. I have Malaysian Trumpet snails (Thiaridae Melanoides tuberculatus), Red Ramshorns (Planorbidae), and "Mystery"/Apple snails (Pomacea pomacea bridgesii and Viviparus malleatus). One of the mystery snails, Crash, has laid two clutches (egg groups). Bridgesii lay their eggs above the water line so they are easy to find, observe, and/or remove. Her first clutch should be hatching soon. The other has a while to go yet.

I have so much fun watching the snails and the fish. Their priorities are much different than mine. Theirs are simple: eat, sleep, have sex, explore, then forget what we just did so that we can do it again as if for the first time.

Leisure and Limits

My body won't do what I want it to. I want to do some things and it says "Ha." Actually, it uses more complicated verbiage than that but I can't repeat it here. Yeah, the colorful metaphors are quite rough. Lew's body is tired from the chemo and the other stuff it has had to go through. Elena's body is arguing with her, too, although I'm sure its language is a little cleaner than mine. She's more sophisticated than me so I would assume her body is too.

We are getting ready to go to Atlanta for the GCLS conference. We are also planning how to not spend the money we don't have. Meals are going to be the biggest outflow of cash. Lorna wants to take milk and cereal. Eh, I guess.

Linkage:

Elena's Blog about Lew's cancer
Elena's "About"

My aquatic website
Aquatic Photo Gallery
All about apple snails

Golden Crown Literary Society
GCLS Con - Schedule

It being the humor market.

There's Mary, a snail with a different kind of hat.

And then there's Anonymous who went to great lengths to travel.

No, not that moron, Shrub. There's no home there. But for Lonesome George, a Galapagos tortoise.

From BBC News:

Lone tortoise 'not last of kind'
By Paul Rincon
Science Reporter, BBC News

The giant Galapagos tortoise that became a conservation icon when it appeared he was the last of his kind is not so alone after all.

"Lonesome George" was thought to be the only survivor of a tortoise species native to the isle of Pinta.

Now, the journal Current Biology reports the discovery of a hybrid - the offspring from the union of a Pinta tortoise and another island species.

The "new" animal thus shares about half its genes in common with George.

Unfortunately for efforts to get George to reproduce, this hybrid tortoise, recently found on Isabela isle, is also a male.

Nonetheless, its discovery in a relatively small sample of tortoises raises fresh hope for the future of George's species (Geochelone abingdoni).

A more thorough sampling of the 2,000 tortoises living on Isabela could yet reveal a genetically pure Pinta tortoise, say the researchers….

Researchers took DNA samples from 89 of these animals and compared their genetic codes with those of other tortoises from the Galapagos that are held in a database.

The database includes DNA from six G. abingdoni specimens held in museums, and Lonesome George.

Genetic analysis revealed that one tortoise sampled on Isabela Island is clearly a first-generation hybrid between native tortoises from the islands of Isabela and Pinta.

"It's extraordinary. I, and everyone involved with George, always imagined that something like this could happen, but never thought it would," said Henry Nicholls, who has written a biography of the octogenarian tortoise called Lonesome George: The Life and Loves of a Conservation Icon.

"It is surprising to find a hybrid on Isabela. It raises questions about how it got there," he told the BBC News website.

(link to full article)

I'd like to read that book. Cool title.

…is going on around here.

Not much writing. When my body hurts, my brain shuts down.

Not much in real life happ'nin' either.

The only thing is my feet are killing me. Yeah, my feet. I use a wheelchair over 90% of the time. Why do my feet hurt? And I mean, like, wow hurt. I cried today they hurt so bad. Then I took a vicoden and it eased enough to function.

I got more water-critters. I got some cherry red shrimp (Neocaridina denticulata sinensis var. red), a bristlenose catfish (Ancistrus spinosus) (it's cute now but has great potential to be butt ugly when it grows), and some ramshorn snails.

I have the shrimp/snail tank just above the monitor. I can watch them from here, which is cool. The little bristlenose is in there too because he is way too small to go into the goldfish tank. He'd make a light snack for one of them.

We went out to run errands and the sky was looking ominous. Black, active, nasty looking. You know, ominous.

We came across wet road at a few points but didn't meet rain until about two miles or less away from home. The truck was beaten senseless by the hail stones and Lorna and I were shouting at each other to be heard.

Normally, we would have pulled over and waited it out except we had the dogs outside, several of which are terrified of storms. So we pushed on.

We crested the final hill, about a half mile from the house, and started down…and the sky cleared. No rain. No hail. But good golly Miss Molly! The ditches were running over with water, there was debris everywhere. And then we saw the sides of the road was white with hail.

We live in a low spot on the hill/mountain. It is literally uphill in all directions. As we approached that, we realized there was a thick pile of hail across the two lane paved road. It had to be at least ankle deep in the middle and deeper on the sides. We pulled up to the house and this is what we saw.

And the hail in the road, about a half hour later:

By the way, the dogs were relatively fine. Sam, the young'un, keeps going out and eating hail, coming back in soaking wet and muddy. Again. And again. PopCorn and Sparky are still twitchy. Maggie was the only one dry. Even she had to have heard that hail on the tin roof. Joella is velcro puppy. Oh, and Casey is just fine. She could care less. The goldfish (Sumo, Sake, and Kiko) just wanted food. The cats that were outside demanded to be let in and the cat that was inside wanted out then wanted back in immediately!

Anyway, the storm was gone and it's not rained since. We've had a very dry winter and needed the rain. Just not all at once! I see blue sky and wonderfully huge and white thunderheads from where I sit.