Captain Jack is coming right along in his recovery from ACL surgery. He’s already had two sessions with doggie PT, including time in the hydro tank—an underwater treadmill. He was a little wigged out at first, but he caught on after a while. How do you get a dog to walk straight and steady on a watery treadmill? Peanut butter!
Captain Jack insisted on taking a few selfies before he cast aside his Collar of Courage. Here are the two he liked best.
If that isn’t nobility, I don’t know what is.
Allysen’s mom came home from the rehab center not quite a week ago (following a broken hip), which caught us off guard due to poor communication from the rehab center. We did not expect The System to spit her out quite that soon. It’s been an absolute maelstrom of activity, finding out what we need to know about equipping the apartment, acquiring the equipment, setting up 24-hour care, learning a million things we never needed or wanted to know before. Early on, Allysen hired a care manager, without whose help I don’t think we would have survived the transition. But we’re getting there. Here’s a picture of her with Allysen and Jayce.
Meanwhile, Captain Jack smolders about being confined to a single room at a time, and wearing the Healing Hat, a.k.a. Helmet of Courage. (We do not call it [Cone of Shame] in this house!) Drugs are wonderful, when they work. But other times, the border collie spirit sneers at sedatives. Drugs? We don’t need no steenking drugs!
Moonlight has had to learn some navigational tricks, getting around the newly barricaded apartment. She’s almost twenty, and she can’t really vault over child gates anymore. Here she is, checking out the Bridge to the Future that I built for her at one checkpoint.
Captain Jack came home from surgery on this Good Friday (a day barely noted by his frazzled humans), having had surgery yesterday for his blown-out ACL. The surgery, called TPLO by the docs, actually involves reshaping the joint somewhat by cutting the tibia end and securing it with a metal plate at a slightly altered angle to the femur side of the joint. (They can’t repair the actual torn ligament the way they do in humans; they’re tried, and it just doesn’t take). Jack has to be kept uber-uber-quiet for two months or longer. And that means keeping him separated from A’s mom’s dog McDuff, who is living with us because of A’s mom being in hospital and rehab for a broken hip!
A’s mom is coming home very soon, BTW, and will be continuing physical therapy at home. Jack, while she’s doing that, will in a few weeks be starting physical therapy at the animal hospital! He’ll get to do his in a tank of water—treadmill in a tank. Stay tuned!
Oh—I probably won’t have a chance to post this weekend, so Happy Easter, everyone! (Happy Spring, if that’s more your style!)
We returned home earlier this week, and our first major order of business (after getting some sleep) was to take our beloved 19-year-old cat Moonlight in for minor surgery (not that any surgery on a cat that old is minor). She had these weird, keratinous things on the back of her neck, one of which kept bleeding and weeping, and the only treatment was to get them off. She came through with flying colors, and is now resting comfortably with a sock-vest around her neck!
Where’s the food?
Wake me when winter’s over.
Movie night recently at the Star Rigger Ranch, with Captain Jack overseeing.
At a later time, with a local human snoozing under that blanket:
And all is well.
Annoyed kitty, touchy kitty
Grouchy ball of fur
Moody kitty, grumpy kitty,
Grr, grr, grr.*
Our return home was marred by one tiny detail: Moonlight, our beloved 18+ year old cat, had developed an infection in our absence and started using the dining room carpet instead of her litter box. Ugh. Our stalwart housesitter, being new to animal care, knew something was wrong but didn’t know what (not that she could have done much about it, anyway). So we walked in, put our bags down, sniffed the air, and within half an hour were preparing to tear up carpet. We had to throw out about half the carpet in the room. Fortunately, it was a patchwork carpet—pieces of different colors laid down artistically by yours truly. That at least made it easier to take up.
Now—great quantities of Nature’s Miracle, vinegar, and peroxide later—we are engaged in medical treatment and retraining, per excellent advice found on the net.
Just in time to go away again. Jayce and I are off to Miami to help my brother Chuck celebrate his 70th birthday. How can that be possible? We aren’t that long out of school, really! Allysen’s mom is having some medical issues, unfortunately, so Allysen is staying behind this time. And Lexi? She’s in Norway!
*From a GrumpyCats.com t-shirt owned by my daughter.
I think we all knew it, deep down inside: Those of us with desks that look like cyclone hits, who swear “too much,” whatever that is, and who stay up way too late and get up late, too… yeah, we’re smarter than you neatnik clock-watching do-gooders. Arwa Mahdawi says so in The Guardian, and why wouldn’t you trust her?
“I’m very intelligent. I’m also extremely creative and have a vocabulary that could be described as voluminous, venerable or very large. But don’t just take my word for it: science says so…” [read more]
Here’s proof of my own smartness. (I neatened it up some.)
And here’s the inevitable kibitzer:
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
Our new favorite comedy is Downward Dog, the story of a dog named Martin and his human, Nan, as narrated by the dog. In a voice that’s somehow a blend of surfer dude and NPR’s This American Life, Martin waxes philosophical about his life with Nan. His philosophy isn’t terrible stable, so his day tends to be filled with insights that contradict his last insight. The writing is witty and funny, the acting is great, and the dog is an adorable rescue mutt adopted from a shelter by the producers. No dog lover should miss this show. On ABC, free on-demand, or streaming.
In the face of the embarrassment of the bad joke who represents the United States to the rest of the world (America Last! America Last! First in Consumption, Last in Care!), I can think of one way to make myself smile:
From Discover Magazine.