We left California for a mere 16 nights and all hell broke loose. I knew work with be hellish, but that is part of life, right? It's the other things that got out of control.
You see one of my uncles is in the hospital, with I'm not quite sure what and last I heard the doctor's weren't sure either. Mom will tell me it all later today. He's been there since we left. Johnny is the family's sacrifice to Vietnam. I think most families have one or maybe two people impacted by that war. I only hope that after this current war (whenever the end is) we do a better job of taking care of those who took care of us.
Craig's boss/partner's father almost met the end with a gangrenous gallbladder. It took the Westside doctor's over two days to figure out what was wrong. That seems like a very long time for a man over 70 to deal with pain and uncertainty. He is doing much better now, still with the remnants of surgery to deal with but decidedly better. He'll be all better for his grandson's bar mitzvah next month. (By the way, we still don't have a gift and Craig is still balking at having to wear a dark suit.)
And now the saddest news so far, we have lost a great family member. Miss Dotsy decided that it was just not fun anymore, I suppose. My sister was with her and the vet tried all he could, she fell asleep and didn't wake up on Monday. Dr. Weule's office sent a very nice little miniature rose bush. It's pink. I'm sure Craig will take very good care of it. I can't tell if Miss Spikey is lonely or not. She slept with us for the most part of last night. I'm going to have trouble re-learning to sleep with cat on head, now that I have husband on my posterior too.
We all thought Spikey would go first, she's the delicate one. But isn't that the way it always goes!?! My Mom has a goal of outliving her siblings. And honestly, she's doing really well, which is good for me but sad nevertheless. She's the second oldest of eight, and three kicked very early buckets, one is in the hospital, as I earlier described. And the other three we watch very closely. Anyway back to Dotsy.
We found her near Thanksgiving in 1988. She was dropped off in our neighborhood, we already had Spikey (my sister did anyway, against my better judgment). Dots was grey, we thought. She was actually covered in dirt, grease and motor oil. When I first bathed her, I thought I killed her. She was lying (hate this verb, sure it's wrong) on her back, spread eagle and not moving on the towel as I attempted to dry her. Apparently, that was going to be the last bath she was taking lying down. She learned to meow from Spikey and very loudly taking it to new levels, especially at the infrequent bath times. Dots had this little snaggle tooth that always scraped your hand or leg, it was kind of painful and she liked to rub her face on you. She had the teeniest little paws. You see Dots was a Siamese mix. Unfortunately, she weighed over twice the vet recommended level. As she was a found kitty, who spent at least a week starving (we think much longer) on the street, she never passed up a meal and in recent years learned to eat dog food. We had to set up a kiddie door to keep her out of the back bedroom where Rosey's food lives. I don't have a picture of her readily accessible, and will look later today. I'm supposed to pick up her ashes. But I'm really having trouble with that. I really don't know what to do with them.