Possibilities

Getting close to surgery!

Mondays are usually a disaster. Between phone calls from his doctor at the VA, other calls, and getting him ready for PT,...well...Mr. Procrastinator sometimes has issues with Mondays. It is like nudging a kid who doesn't want to go to school and says...
My tummy hurts
My head hurts
I don't wanna...
No, he doesn't say those exact words, but his actions are those of 'faces' and expressions when I set things up for showers or set out a change of clothes.
He'd rather not go, he tells me. I have learned that arguing is of no use. Sometimes I win, sometimes I loose.
His doctor from the VA called at 8am, which was scheduled. That set his whole day off from track. He doesn't like to get up before 9am.
Period.
He was grouchy and well, just his ol' Grumpy Self.
He talked with the doctor for about a minute and then handed me the phone.
His PCP who was not very cooperative in helping me figure out some things needed for surgery seemed all bright and cheery.
Whatever. She suddenly wanted to be helpful. This after I bypassed her for the cooperative Psychiatrist.

The extreme humidity we are having doesn't help much. Nor does the mornings of dense fog and over cast days.

The folks at Pulmonary Therapy are Angels and helped him through his rough Mondays. It seems that Mondays for whatever reason are really tough for him.
We discussed the ever present Monster of MDD or Major Depressive Disorder and he said he had no idea why he was the way he was and why things were so hard for him.
By afternoon, he is usually more cheerful and by evening, he is more like the guy I once knew.

Anyway....

On Saturday...
In order to break up Rich's monotony of TV binging, I offered to take him for a drive out to Runge Hollow where we have fished once in a while. He said NO at first and then agreed to it.
It was a nice drive.

I had a chance to park up above the earthen dam and bring out my camera. The day was rather dull looking and very grey so I thought I'd see what happened with my IR filters.

Even with barely any sun, I was able to get some great IR reflections off the grass.

And then the black and white 850nm filter...

It changes the perspective by making the green bright and the water dark. This shot would have been dreary in color.

And lastly, some X's in the water and trees from down by the lake itself.

This always reminds me of how my Grandmother used to claim that she left X's in the water at the good fishing spots.

Rich looked around and at the fishing dock then claimed he'd have to walk too far or...it didn't look like a good fishing spot. I cheerfully pointed out that I'd seen good sunfish reports from this man made lake and that the fishing dock would be a perfect place to sit after surgery and toss worms into the water.

Grumpy vs. Hopeful.
Sometimes I think that is my role in life.
He points out the misery, I point out the possibilities.

And life goes on.

And Dixie passes it on...

When Morris was a puppy he was shown 'the ropes' by Queen a black and tan hound.
This photo was taken in 2004. Queen shows puppy Morris how to play. They rough and tumble and Morris learns his first lessons by following Queen. Always, always follow Val and keep an eye on her....

Morris goes on to teach hound dog puppies for years. Thelma and Louise.

Dottie

...and then Dixie in 2012

I see a pattern here...of dog butts...


Dixie had no idea that she would be part of the tradition.

Dixie's kind temperament and laid back attitude absolutely shined through today as she was patient with that tiny black and tan pup that kept leaping on her and chasing her.

But somehow I think, dogs love playtime with their own kind no matter the size.

And in the end you can become best Mud Buddies.

Two beautiful black and tan dogs.
Playing together.

I am actually thinking of introducing Charlie to a puppy class, then obedience, and then Therapy Dog Class.
His disposition is excellent for a tiny dog. I think after visiting hospital rooms this week and the nursing home, that he could do a lot of good.
Maybe he isn't a 'working' dog, but he sure is a calm little guy and he makes both my husband and I feel good just petting him.

Sorry Charlie!

I've always wanted to use that phrase on a pet. My father coined that phrase many years ago when he created Charlie The Tuna.

Charlie came into our lives on the first of March. It was not planned. On the 3rd we had Steph, Steve, and the grand kids come for the weekend. Charlie got to play with their beagle, Angel.

I mean really, is this not cute? They really did so well together. I even thought of titling this photo as "Charlie's Angel". Oh how retro TV!

Charlie explored the great outdoors. I could not resist laughing at the size of him next to Rich's truck.

Little Puppy, Big Dreams.

How on earth will Charlie ever pee on that tire???

When we got the call that my MIL had fallen and 'can't get up',  the tone of everything changed. After a stay in the hospital and several evaluations, my MIL has been taken to a nursing home for rehab and further evaluations.
It has been a very stressful week with family.

But Charlie has been the source of laughter and amusement along with distraction.

Charlie discovered snow during the little blizzard we had. He got stuck in the deep snow and figured out how to make his way around in tracks and footsteps of humans.

Yesterday was nice in the afternoon.
When we got back from the VA. Charlie spent time with me outside exploring.

His potty training has gone very well considering all of the disruptions we've had this week.
He has excelled at crate training too.

He is learning ... or teaching me some Charlie communication. One or two whirls near the rugs at either door mean poop time. Sometimes a paw on my foot with a whine means pee time or nap time.
No problem, we are figuring it out.

He has developed a ravenous appetite.

I don't have any action shots of him tearing about with his toys but he spends a lot of time running around with them.
Sometimes he gets the zoomies. When he hits the slippery kitchen floor he simply drops onto his tummy and does a four paw drift as he slides and in a wink he is up and running the length of the kitchen.

He has begun leash and 'area' training. I wish I had a lighter rope to use. I think I will have to go see if I can find something at the hardware store.

What I mean by 'area' training is letting Charlie understand that he can only go about 20 feet from me and stay in that 'area'. He needs to keep an eye on me and pay attention.
He is too young for much, but he can learn to come when called and to stay close. He is doing that fairly well except when he is in the yard pouncing on pine cones and maiming them.

During this week, Charlie has acted like a therapy dog. He makes people laugh with his antics and without thinking, Rich scoops him up and carries him while petting him.
We know how well petting an animal can sooth the soul.

We've needed some soul soothing this week.

He is little. His heart is big.

And yesterday morning when he got under foot I must have stepped on his toes. He squeaked and I said a big laugh, "Sorry Charlie!"

One day at a Time

We'd met with the Speech Therapist at the VA. The young lady was fresh faced and new, doing her internship with Veterans. I sat quietly while she did an assessment. I think that was the hardest part for me, watching my husband struggle with certain things.

However, the ST said he was doing quite well and normally they weren't able to see 'stroke patients' this soon after a stroke. She felt that he would make great strides.

Rich isn't sure about the great strides. But the therapist kept encouraging Rich to challenge himself with tasks, but to remember that when he got tired it would not go as well.

She looked forward to meeting with us next week.

We got home just as the first thunderstorm hit. The animals were eating hay quietly and the grand kids were sitting on the couch watching a DVD on a small portable player.

After the second round of storms blew through [we made a quick trip to the basement when that storm came through], the kids broke out a new deck of cards and asked their Grandpa to teach them some card games.

Without really knowing it, the kids were helping with Speech Therapy and Cognitive Thinking skill therapy.

Yesterday was a busy one even though Rich didn't think it was. We put round bales in with the gelding lot, the calf lot, and the cow lot.
For lunch we went to the local restaurant and had a really great meal with the kids.
We stopped afterwards to see Rich's mom.

For a person who has had a stroke just 12 days ago, that is a lot of activity.
I could tell that he was getting rather tired.

Our week has been busy with visiting helpers and drives to the Madison VA for appointments. Not to mention the phone calls I have had to make or receive for more appointments and follow ups.

After the kids left, Rich proclaimed that he needed to rest. Indeed he did.

I thought I'd run down to the "Morel Area" and see if I could find us a handful to cook up as a tasty treat.

I found some rather large ones on the upper north side of the creek bed.

Morris and I gathered up a small bunch and headed back home. I walked fast, but still managed to stop and photograph some wild Columbine, wild Geranium, Jacob's Ladder, and wild Strawberry flowers. The Mayflowers are blossoming now.
I wanted to head to the back valley to photograph the Trillium that litter the north hillside.
And I thought to myself.
Perhaps next year.

This spring was going to be too busy for long wanderings.

I took a slightly different path than normal home. The storms that blew through the night before had uprooted an old oak tree which fell onto a box elder, which fell onto another box elder and basically made a huge mess.

Unfortunately, it laid across our hot-wire fence. I do have to say that the fencing we use is amazing. it is 1/4" soft braided rope fence. After Rich cut a chunk out of the log we were able to replace the broken insulators and the fence was back on and hot.

And no. He probably shouldn't have been running a chain saw. However, it needed to be taken care of.

It basically wore him out physically. And I told him that the rest of the work would just have to wait until we had a chainsaw party.

“Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.” James Baldwin