When we went to Gus’s cage at the vet to take him home, Red was with me, and I was very touched when Red ran right over to the cage and they touched noses through the bars. Such a Red-like thing to do, and Gus was so happy to see him. Red is a sweet, sweet, spirit.
A bit battered but unbowed, Gus came home tonight. Maria and I went to pick him up at the Cambridge Valley Vet. We had our post-op briefing from Suzanne. She put a soft hood on Gus and reversed it, so that it flows back from his head and doesn’t impair his vision.
This works beautifully, and he can keep it on for a few days, probably not the five days she wants it kept on. The incision is small and very clean, it should heal well. Gus is a little fuzzy from the anesthesia, I imagine he will sleep through the night tonight.
He came home and eliminated as usual, and then had some dinner and went happily into his crate.I am always grateful for a grate, it is a wonderful training tool and helpful in times like this. Fate and Red did the appropriate greeting and sniffing. I doubt Gus will change very much, certainly not for five or six weeks.
He might mark territory less, and hump toys less, but he will otherwise be his active, affectionate and imperious self.
We have some pain killers for him tomorrow, and for the next two or three days. The operation is not a big deal, he has self-dissolving stitches, he doesn’t need to come back at all unless there is a problem. Dr. Fariello said we could call her tonight if there was a problem, but I don’t need to call her or bother her at home.
I spend some time at the vet’s this afternoon, and was struck by how happy the employees and staff are there. Lots of animal people are suspicious of vets, we live in a paranoid and cynical world, these are not people who live for money or even make much of it.
Nobody becomes a vet or a vet tech to hurt animals or get rich. Gus was happy to see us and the dogs. He will sleep well tonight, and since I got sick this morning with a rip-roaring cold, so will I. I find a nice bedtime cold medicine that will give me some peace.
Maria is at her belly-dancing class tonight and then going out with some friends. She has turned from a recluse into a social animal, and it is a sweet thing to see. She is making some beautiful work since returning from New Mexico, new colors in her head and her work.
I have some chicken soup to eat and a piece of Haddock, and a good mystery if I can stay awake.
All of my life, I have been jolted into seeing that I am sometimes blind, and ignorant and arrogant. I am getting older, and I know now that few of us really see the world clearly, or know as much as we think we know. We live in delusion and hubris. This awakening, this realization, has led me to the path of self-awareness and discovery. But the shocks and the jolts keep coming.
In the last two weeks several people I know well, a colleague and a close friend, have been named by former employees as the crudest and most malignant kind of sexual predators, people who use their power to expose themselves in front of women, touch them in abusive and unwanted ways, pressure them for sex in exchange of work, stick their tongues down their throats, and more, I can hardly bear to list all of the accusations.
This were men I knew, worked alongside, respected, even revered, as honest and truth-telling journalists, people I admired, emulated, wanted to be, people who taught me. They were the kind of people corrupt and greedy politicians always hate. They were, to me, incorruptible and clear-headed.
But today, they stand for something different.
They have admitted to the truth of the accusations against them, left their jobs or been driven from them in disgrace. I won’t pretend I know what to make of it or how, really, to respond on a personal level. Are they still friends? Can I still respect their work and honor their lessons?
How is it possible I thought I knew them so well and didn’t really know them at all? Is their just punishment ruin and banishment from the workplace? Should they go to jail? I have made many awful mistakes in my life, but never one like that.
I value loyalty very much, but I value decency and compassion more. Hannah Arendt has no words or thoughts to guide me this time, this is something new for me to sort out by myself. I have to like what I see in the mirror.
Using one’s power to dominate a weaker or more vulnerable human being is one of the lowest things human beings can do, not something for me to shrug off as one of life’s odd experiences, or as something men of a different generation learned to do, or that everybody did. Not good enough.
On top of everything else, they were extreme hypocrites, the lowest form of life, they exposed and ruined people again and again for lesser crimes than this.
It wasn’t as if everybody thought sexual predation was right.
I knew it was wrong, and so did many other men and women I knew.
It was not something everybody did, or knew about or condoned. Yet I am not sure how the same person who abuses people in this way can be an ethical, perceptive and honest journalist. I just can’t put it all together in a way that make sense to me.
I hate to run away from people running from a mob, even a righteous one, but something inside of me keeps me from going to them either. They have betrayed many people in a profound way, me least of all. The young men and women who came to me looking for work were a sacred trust, futures and lives depended on treating them fairly and honestly.
But I don’t care for life sentences, and never trust a mob. it is also true that compassion only goes to the worthy and the good? I have written otherwise many times. Can my money find my mouth?
A reader named Alison sent me a message this morning reminding me of one of my favorite Thomas Merton quotes, she said my life and Maria’s life reflect Merton’s words “and I am always grateful to you both for sharing your process and the resulting gifts.”
I appreciated those words this morning, my faith in own perceptions and values was a bit shaken.
“It is true,” wrote Merton, “that we are called create a better world. But we are first of all called to a more immediate and exalted task: that of creating our own lives.”
I have been creating my own life for a long time, and I still have a good and long ways to go. I do not aspire to a perfect life, a good and meaningful one will do. I wonder if sometimes a human being has to shed their skin like a snake and give rebirth to themselves over and over again. I used to think we would get there one day, now I know we are always on the way.
Life calls me to keep learning and keep changing, to see new experiences as a gate rather than a door, something to walk through to the other side, not a locked door to keep me out.
I wonder if those friends wish to speak with me, if they are lonely and frightened, if the good parts of them have survived. If they are truly ashamed and regretful. I believe that I will go to them, when I can, and ask if there is anything I can do to help.
Lulu, like most donkeys, doesn’t give away anything for free. Everything has to be their own idea, sometimes they are in a good mood, sometimes not. Their long suffering history at the hands of humans who overwork them and treat them cruelly has left them wary and fussy about the work they do, or don’t so.
Lulu adores Maria and this morning, she wanted some extra attention. She head-butted and whinnied until she got Maria to pay attention to her, and then the two of them put their heads together and communed with one another.
Donkeys can be astonishingly intuitive and affectionate – if they feel like it.
Nicole from the Cambridge Valley Vet called around 11:30 to say Gus’s surgery went well and quickly, he is out of the operating room, and awake and on his feet. I’m taking Red there to have his laser treatment at 4 p.m., and Gus is scheduled for discharge at 4:30.
(I called Robin Gibbon’s, Gus’s very conscientious breeder, and she told me Gus’s mother Hannah is coming into heat, and she is planning to breed her again, for one more time. Robin was impressive in her first breeding program, I would recommend her to anyone. She says she has a good long waiting list for puppies, that does not surprise me.
She was glad to hear Gus came through the surgery so well. Robin is what they call “good people” up here.)
When Fate was spayed, Dr. Fariello let me stand outside the surgery room and take a picture, and she graciously agreed to let me do that again. I don’t go into the surgical suite and try not to be intrusive, which is easier said than done.
It is good for me to see it, although I was queasy about getting too close. As a former police reporter, I’ve seen countless dead bodies, and many gruesome scenes, but I didn’t want to see this one too closely.
It was instructive to watch the surgery for awhile.
Dr. Fariello and a temporary vet tech (Cassandra is on maternity leave) took great care with Gus, and really took their time to prepare him and do the surgery.) Dr. Fariello scrubbed for a long time, just like in the movies.
And I love her surgical cap ,it’s the kind of thing Maria would put on her head.
Neutering at Cambridge Valley is more expensive than some other clinics, but I see it’s taken very seriously and they took a long time for the procedure, which is often done quickly.
I felt good about it, Gus was in the right place. I’m glad it’s over, I’m glad he will be coming home tonight. I hate those hoods they put on, the border collies take them right off, again and again.
We’ll see what happens with Gus, he is not prone to being quiet for long. Robin says the neutering won’t change him much.
