my too-long absence from blogging reminded me of those classic Roseanne Rosannadanna ’70s Saturday Night Live skits, sparkling with Gilda Radner’s comedic brilliance. and closing with the resoundingly true punch line, “it just goes to show you, it’s always something.”
a few months ago, my bulldog Elroy injured his left, rear knee. he wasn’t out frolicking in a dog park or bounding across a meadow filled with wildflowers. no, he blew out his ACL spinning cookies around the family room coffee table. in the midst of Elroy’s recovery—as i hauled him back and forth to our veterinary clinic for aqua therapy—i threw myself into whipping the yard in shape after a series of wild spring wind storms.
i dragged the branches that had snapped off during the storms into the woods. then jumped on the John Deere and mowed the ratty-looking spring growth, posing as grass. i then grabbed the Black and Decker whacker and tidied the perimeter of the house and leveled out a few rows of bushes with the hedge trimmer. finally, i plugged in the electric blower to clear the driveway of the last remnants of debris. just as i thought i was done, i spotted some unsightly small branches under my car. ever anal, i moved to blow them into the woods. i stepped gracefully over the power cord, twisted my foot, and tore the tendon and ligament across the top. doctor’s directive: off the black-and-blue appendage for a month.
banished from standing in my kitchen, cooking and yard work, i thought i’d have more time to write. when i received a call that a proposed surgery had been approved and scheduled. i really don’t remember much the two weeks following my surgery. the fog and recovery lingered on far longer than the doctor had projected. last week, i was ready for short jaunts to the farmers’ market and into the kitchen. (yea!) when Winnie, the geriatric bull terrier, became gravely ill.
rushing Winnie to the vet, my heart pounded with parental fear. she was panting heavily and had completely lost her interest in food, ordinarily her favorite thing in the world. she remained at the vet for three days as they pumped her with fluids, performed test after test, and finally rendered a diagnosis. on Friday afternoon, she came home. the weekend felt dicey, but today, she’s just a little more perky. a little more interested in food, if i feed it to her in my hand (even if that’s just a Winnie manipulation, i’m happy to be her faithful servant). i remain hopeful that she’ll be with us for quite some time to come.
yeah, as Roseanne said, it’s always something. but we get through it. with the good, kind thoughts, support and prayers of family and friends. and with a dose of laughter.