Life with Dogs....

“Dogs are our link to paradise. 

They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent. 

To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, 

where doing nothing was not boring--it was peace.” 
― Milan Kundera

 I'll have to admit, we got a dog through serious planning and research.

We started watching "Dog Whisperer".

I read the "How to Raise the Perfect Dog" book.

We went to dog shows and talked to owners and breeders.

I read a LOT of online articles.

We researched our breeds and chose Australian Shepherds for their

intelligence, agility and versatility.

I am not a dog lover;  I love cats.

We even have three of them.

Then we got our dogs, Dixie and Dillon.

Now I love my dogs.

Still not a dog lover, but these two take my breath away.

It's true that dogs live in the moment,

and I have learned a lot from them.

“Perhaps one central reason for loving dogs is that they take us away from this obsession with ourselves. When our thoughts start to go in circles, and we seem unable to break away, wondering what horrible event the future holds for us, the dog opens a window into the delight of the moment.” 
― Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson,

Messy Monday

Humboldt Bay

I haven't written about my patients for a while, so I thought I would do so today after my shift yesterday...

The morning started off with Geriatric Clinic.  I don't think I had any patients under the age of 70 for the first couple of hours.  Unfortunately, several had to be admitted;  mostly because age was finally catching up and their families could not longer care for them at home.  We have a lot of admissions for "weakness."

Things started to pick up as the morning progressed, and we started to get the chronics who won't go home.  Why do some people want to come to the ED just to sleep?  We have several patients who will come in with some random complaint of "nausea and abdominal pain" who get an IV, some medications and then pretty much establish a home base and milk out the stay for hours.  They'll be complaining of 10/10 pain even though they've been sleeping for hours, demand more pain medication, and are asleep before the RN can even get back in the room with it.  These are the ones who miraculously improve when they are placed in the hallway because a more urgent patient needs the room and, more importantly, the cardiac monitors.

Lunch time arrived and we had a reasonably full house.  Chronics sleeping in a few rooms, seniors waiting to be admitted, then the random "waited all weekend and now can't get into the doctor's office because it's a Monday and their schedule is booked" patients come in.  There's a flurry of activity as they come in and out almost like a revolving door.  Charting takes longer than it actually takes for me to see the patient, do a physical exam and plan for discharge.

The afternoon wears on and I start to dread the "after school" or "after work" rush.  School has started and there are sports injuries galore as kids who have sat around all summer start actually doing some physical activity.  Then there's the "it's bothered me all weekend, but I had to go to work today and I must be seen now" group.  Kinda like the previous group, but employed.  Sort of.  Or wish they weren't.  Like one patient that jammed their finger playing basketball and wanted me to write them for a week off work... really?  Listen up 18 year old... you've got a lifetime of work ahead of you, so you better get used to it because you're not getting off to a good start.

Evening comes.  The RN's are antsy because they're on their last hour.  The flotsam and jetsam of society starts to roll in, and I see the kind of patient I can't stand... the "waste of my time" with the "I demand everything be done" family.  Let me get this straight, the police "kicked the &*^% out of you" for being involved in a fight with your pregnant daughter's baby daddy, dragged you to jail where supposedly you got further assaulted.  You were released before midnight last night at which point you came to the hospital to see your daughter who was injured in the original fight but were not allowed to see her because police said you were threatening her but during which time you refused to be seen for your "injuries."  You then proceeded to "disappear" per your "concerned" family members only to reappear late this afternoon and "collapse on the couch."  Family calls 911 to bring you for evaluation so they can "sue those *&^%( police" who did this to you.  You refuse to speak to EMS, myself, the RN, and only interact with your family members.  When the words "drug screen" are mentioned you suddenly are able to stand and walk and communicate to the extent that you sign out AMA (against medical advice) and storm out of the ED.  Meanwhile the "concerned" family members inform you that "don't worry, if he passes out again we can always call EMS."  Thanks, that will be an excellent use of resources.

It's end of my shift, and I am waiting for a woman to deliver her baby.  This is not a joyous occasion.  She's from out of town and things started to go wrong.  It's too soon, and the baby is too small, but Nature has already started the process.  She keeps asking why it's like labor.  I tell her it's because it is labor;  her body only knows how to do one thing.  After almost an hour it's over.  I have to change my scrubs before finally heading home.  What a way to end the day.

I drive home mentally reviewing my shift.  Did I really help anyone today?  Did I display something close to empathy even though some patients really pushed my level of patience?  Was there something I should have done that I didn't?

Luckily, self-doubt is all but forgotten as I cross the bridge for home.  There's bigger issues to think about... and, lots of distractions to help erase the memories of the day.

 

Requiem for a Goat

I know I haven't written in a while, and I honestly thought I would be writing about the new puppy in our life.  Instead I find myself writing about another death on the farm. 

Boots was born on May 15th of this year.

She died on Sunday the 16th, just a day past turning 4 months old.

And, today we buried her.

I've been feeling like a bit of failure.

When we had the massacre weekend, I promised Boots that I would take care of her.

We took her to the breeder and then brought her back after 3 weeks.

And, as I wrote back then, she was never quite the same.

I called it goat PTSD.

Then we left for an extended trip to get our new puppy and when we came back

Boots had developed "bottle jaw."  She became severely anemic and within 10 days she was gone.

At one point, I thought she was going to recover, and she fought so hard, 

but then she became much worse despite all my efforts to help her: 

 bottle feedings, antibiotics, IV fluids, etc.

In the end, all I could do was sit by her side and make her comfortable.

She called out once, and then was still.  She'd lost the fight.

She died on a beautiful sunny day.  

We'd actually sat out in the sunshine for about an hour earlier,

I had wrapped a blanket around her to keep her warm.

All the other animals seemed to surround us.

It was a lovely scene.

This morning my husband picked out a spot on our property amoungst the pine trees;

just a little bit down the path from the back of the barn where she was born.

I wrapped her in the blanket that had helped to keep her warm during her illness;

a pink ribbon secured everything in place just as it had helped keep the blanket on her while she was alive.  She seemed so tiny as I laid her down.

We said a few words about what a good goat she was,

and how a lot of people who had never met her loved her through my photos and blog.

I apologized that I hadn't been able to protect her the way I promised.

And we told her that at least now, she was with her mother, her auntie Betty,

and her playmate Jazz in some goat heaven somewhere.

My husband who considers all animals as utilitarian rather than pets actually got misty.

I openly cried.

I hesitated as I tossed down that first shovelful of dirt.  I didn't know that I could do it.

But, there really was something kind of cathartic about doing the work.

In the distance, the other two goats, Laverne and Shirley started to bleat.

We called it the "two goat salute."

I made a small cross, we laid down a stone as a marker, and I planted flowers.

You can call it sacrilegious, but I believe in a God who loves all of His creation,

and in a Heaven where all creatures are welcome.

As the first creature born on the property, you became my hope

As I watched you grow, you became my joy.

You were loved, and you will be missed.

You will never be forgotten.

Medical Humor

I've been working a string of nights, and the patient volume has been surprisingly low.  We have had some interesting cases... but, that's not what I want to write about tonight.  I'm on Facebook, and since about 2/3 of my friends are in the medical field, there's a plethora of medical humor that abounds.  I thought I would share some of my favorites.  You may have seen them.  Enjoy!  

Oh, and there's some excitement coming up in the next couple of days... a new member of the family will coming soon...!

Starting Fresh

Many of you know what happened to our goats about 3 weeks ago.  At that time I couldn't even begin to imagine having goats again.  But, today we took the leap and brought Boots and two new friends, Laverne and Shirley back to the house.

I never imagined my Jeep would be used to transport livestock...

Here's the girls' first look at their new home... for Boots, it was a welcome home...!

Ok, we'll get you out of there soon... 

They quickly got to work earning their keep, either that or they were hungry since we'd both been up at dawn to get them home and no one had eaten yet...

I had a tear in my eye when I led Boots around to the back and to the barn.  I know something was going on with her as she raised her head, sniffing the air catching scents of her Momma Josie and the other 2 former goats.  She seemed a little distressed at times; stopping eating and just staring at the barn.  At one point, I almost went to see if she was doing ok because she seemed frozen.  But, then, a flicker of the tail and back to eating.

I still don't know what to think.  I was a little surprised when my husband suggested we get Boots back with a friend or two.  

We didn't kill the bear.  I didn't get my closure.

I went out last week and looked at the goats that were available.  I picked these two because they seemed the cleanest of the group, not for any personality or friendliness, or because I liked their looks.  They were just replacement goats.  They weren't Betty and Josie.  They look like how Jazz would have grown up to look... would have...

I spent the morning like a robot cleaning out the barn, putting up the hay and laying down the pine shavings.  I remembered the salt lick and the feeding container.  I got the water bucket.  It didn't have the same excitement as the first time.  I stood in the yard wondering if I had missed anything.

Then Boots came over and stood by me; rested slightly against me and let me pet her.  Soon, Laverne and Shirley came over, nuzzling my leg, pulling at my shirt;  my husband was doing work on the fence and Shirley started following him around, going wherever he went, letting him pet and rub her back... tail up in the air and wagging.  

And, so now I have goats again.  And, they are a part of the family.

Speaking of which... 

I am happy to introduce

Marshal Dillon

born July 11th

who will be coming home in 2 weeks at the tender age of 7 weeks

...eek!

He's sure a handsome fellow...!

How Does Your Garden Grow...?

I've been posting a lot about death recently, so let's try to focus on life...

We've had our home about a year now.  I think I've mentioned before that the prior owners didn't do a whole lot of upkeep.  Here's the main "valley view" area on the side of the house when we first looked at the property...

Once I actually bought the property, I hired someone to start cutting through the mess before we took possession of the house.  See the before and after?  Amazing what one man and a weed whacker can do...

Then hubby got the tractor and the clearing really started.  Wow... opened that space right up..!

Just a few trees left around...

Then even those trees were gone...

Then around May I got my first batch of seedlings started...

And even planted in some box containers on the deck...

Hubby got out the tractor and the disc harrier and started churning up some level land...

Time for fencing against goats, deer, etc...

Seedlings started coming up...

And now look at those lovely rows of corn, turnips, pumpkins, sunflowers.  There's chard and mustard greens.  Even snow peas at the ends of the rows.  My cucumbers and carrots are not doing so well, but they're hanging in there.  It's also amazing how fast the weeds come up..!  It was nothing but dirt when we planted the rows... where did they all come from..?

My little boxes are producing enough lettuce that I haven't had to buy any all summer...

And I get some radishes and small carrots from the other box...

Salad, anyone...?

I can't wait as the season continues and it starts to turn into fall... those pumpkins should be just about ready for Halloween...!

Small Town Incrimination

A story from the road...

After meeting up with some friends in Jacksonville, OR we continued westward heading to Lakeview, OR.  The city is known to be "friendly to hang gliders" as could be witnessed by signage all over town and in the local restaurants.  We decided to take the dog for a walk around town to stretch our legs and take some pictures.

In fact, I had just taken the above picture when all of a sudden we started hearing a hissing/ticking sound... If you've ever seen one of these, you know what I am talking about:

It was defect on the side of a tire on the last truck seen in the mural photo. (The above photo is what happened to our moving van when we came cross country.)  Anyway, it's like 90-something degrees outside and this thing starts getting bigger and bigger.  I'm just telling my husband it's about to blow and turning away when "BOOM!!!" the thing pops.  

People across the street start yelling as we're trying to recover our hearing from the explosion.  There's a big hole on the side of the tire, and it's flat.  As we considered where the owner of the truck might be (local bar we guess), we took some more photos and continued our walk eventually heading back to our hotel room.

We'd just gotten the dog settled in the room and were out the door heading to dinner when a sheriff's vehicle pulled into the parking lot.  I figured they were just going to ask us about the tire that blew, but it seems we were being accused of slashing the tire!  What we found out later (once the local police chief and another police officer arrived and asked several more questions) is that there's been a rash of tires slashings in the last couple of weeks, and when the tire blew, someone reported that "a couple with a german shepherd" were in parking lot when the tire was slashed.

The sheriff seemed reasonable, but one of the other officers seemed a little more accusatory and brusk telling us "don't leave until I get back" when we explained about the truck tire defect blowing and showing some of the pictures we had taken of the truck before the event.  After a few more questions and taking our information, they let us go and we headed off to dinner.

DH was very upset by the whole event, and I can understand.  Not only did someone acuse us of doing something which we didn't do, but the local law enforcement hadn't even investigated the scene.  Then there's the matter of the sheriff showing up at our hotel which means someone either followed us back to our hotel or the sheriff just happened upon us while searching the area for someone matching our description.  We also found out that the accusing party was known to the cops for some previous belligerent behavior so DH was a little upset that they took their word/report at all.

Anyway, it made for an interesting, um, welcome to the small town... Yeah...