Every day or so, I look up at the windowsills in the farmhouse, and am surprised by what I see – fresh flowers, dying flowers, Florence’s old blue glass, rocks, crystals, totems of various kinds. I never see these exhibits go up or come down, I can’t imagine when she does it.
I love life with my artist, she is creative in every single thing she does, she is creative in what she wears, what she sees, in her wonderful curating of the windowsills. Never in my life have I or anyone I lived with thought to curate windowsills, and not with fine purchased art, but with the simple and beautiful elements of life. I am very fond of my windowsill gallery, it just glows with imagination, thoughtfulness, creativity and love, all good things.
Minnie’s healing has gone well, but she had a hard morning today. She didn’t look right to me from the first, she was sluggish, unsteady on her fee, she didn’t want to come out of the crate, didn’t want to go out. When the sun came out, I brought her outside for a bit, and she sat on the porch, walked to the woodshed, and then across to the barn. She was very unsteady on her feet, much less mobile and adventurous than in the two days before and I gave her a few minutes and then went out and found her in the barn, lying near the hay bales. She is eating well, and seems alert but definitely not strong this morning.
She did eat, but is quiet. Minnie has a lot to say, but not today.
She’s resting inside now – on Frieda’s dog bed – I talked to the vet, they said to call them if she didn’t seem better later in the day. There are many ups and downs in a surgery like this, for animals as well as people. It is not a straight line sort of thing, still it seems clear to me that Minnie is struggling a bit today. Perhaps it’s the cold or some pain she is experiencing. We’ll keep an eye on her.
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Note. The Cambridge Valley Veterinary Clinic has received several contributions towards the cost of Minnie’s leg amputation. I appreciate the sentiment, but we don’t need contributions – the bill is already paid. I asked if I could return the money, but the clinic won’t tell me who the contributors are, so we agreed that this money will go into a fund for cats who need medicine or surgery and their owners don’t have the money. But please don’t send any money for us or Minnie, there are far needier people and animals out there.
Zelda is always vigilant, always watching, an intense animal, the leader of the sheep. She is a sheep, but not a sheep really, she idoes not ever melt into the flock, she is not really one of the herd, she is always apart, always standing out. She gets close to no one, not even Maria, she is close only to the flock, which she leads and protects, every minute of her life.
Red concluded his month-long round of acupuncture last night with Dr. Colleen Flaherty. I think it was successful, I think he experienced some new kinds of calmness, I hope he internalized it, it opened my eyes to some of the possibilities of this ancient Asian medicine for dogs. I think it’s time for him to stop now, and I realized talking to Dr. Flaherty that it might be a good idea to bring Frieda in next week to see if acupuncture can help ease the discomfort from her arthritis and and also help ground her.
I found it a calming and spiritual experience for me as well, I brought mail from Post Office Box 502 and read it quietly while Red lay on the floor with the needles in him. I think it brought some calming to our own relationship, which can be frenetic and stressful sometimes, there is so much going on with us.
So next week, another chapter, this one with Frieda, one of the most complicated and intense dogs I have ever known.
