Notes from Maine - 2024/03/10
It’s raining like crazy right now. There’s driving wind and deep puddles out in the field. I kept the horses in the barn this morning. If let them out they would sink into the mud, toss their heads, and then retreat back inside. Not that they’re happy inside—they’re restless and want out. I can’t convince them that restless, irritated, and dry is the best they can hope for this morning.
In my last journal entry, I was restless and irritated on behalf of my friend Finn (English Mastiff, 10). We went to the vet to see if there was anything that might make him more stable and comfortable on his back legs and came away frustrated. I wasn’t frustrated that there were no treatment options—I expected that answer. I was frustrated that the vet wanted to do diagnostics that would stress Finn more and they couldn’t point to a single treatment that the diagnostics might recommend. At his age, he’s not a good surgical candidate. So, I had to question why we would put him through diagnostics if those tests wouldn’t reveal viable courses of action beyond pain management.
Since then Finn has visited another vet. This was a surgical/neurological practice about forty minutes south of where we live. With a simple physical exam the doctor looked at me and said, “I don’t think we can learn anything more from sedated X-rays that will lead us to a solution.”
It wasn’t the best possible answer. Obviously, it would be nice to hear that there’s a simple way to make Finn’s rear legs work better. But it was, at least, an extremely logical answer, and I rejoiced. Finn likely has a combination of arthritis and spinal issues that are causing his instability. They were able to rule out osteosarcoma, sprains, and implant failure (from the knee stabilization).
We do have treatment options. They gave him an injection of a monoclonal antibody treatment for arthritis. If that doesn’t help, there are spinal injections that might improve his coordination a bit. At nearly 11 years old, he’s an ancient Mastiff. There’s no treatment for being a dog of his age. But he’s still a happy, dear friend and I’d like to make sure he stays comfortable.
For our other friend, Albert (German Shepherd), there’s no solution for a day like today. Yes, I could throw the frisbee out into the mud and watch him swim out to it, but I will not. It would take forty-five minutes to tire him out while I’m getting soaked to the bone. Then it would take equally as long to clean him up. Albert will have to wait for a better day.
We didn’t have winter this year, just one long mud season. I wonder if it will dry up before the end of April. In the past, we expected that we would end March with temperatures beginning to move above freezing, April was full of mud, and then May would bring the black flies. The last of the snow pack on the north side of the house would usually melt before the end of May. It’s possible that next year will return to form—who knows? I didn’t mind this winter at all. I’m surprised at how quickly it passed and I’m glad we haven’t suffered a drought like a few years ago.
I’m ready. I’m ready for opening the windows and dealing with the pollen and bugs. I’m ready for another year of kitchen remodeling. I wrote instructions on what kind of sink I would like in my will. Perhaps one of my descendants (I don’t have any descendants yet, but maybe there’s still time) will honor my wishes and install tile floors. That decision will be generations from now I’m sure. Maybe they’ll have different flooring options in the future. In the TV show Murphy Brown, Murphy employed Eldin (Robert Pastorelli) for six years to paint the interior of her house. Those are rookie numbers. I expect that any good home renovation should take at least a few decades if you want to get it right.
My brother is wrapping up on the drywall work. He’s very good at mudding & taping. Every now and then I look at the walls and think that they’re done. Then he arrives to perfect them further. I’m glad I can’t see the issues that he has been chasing. It sounds torturous. Once I have the green light, I will put up the final coat of paint. It doesn’t matter what color, as long as it’s not too dark. I don’t know a lot about paint, but I do know that “final coat” means that it’s the color that the kitchen will be until Mom arrives again. Sometime this summer she will stand in the middle of my kitchen, look up, and then ask me if I want her to show me how to use a brush.
Holy moly—where has the morning gone? We seem to have misplaced an hour. I was born during Standard Time, which means that half of my life has been spent in a deficit. People born during the summer have half a life of surplus. I hope that during my lifetime (or at least before the kitchen is finished), we get rid of Daylight Saving Time or Standard Time, or something. As far as I can tell, the only people still benefitting are the ones who make clock buttons. If we never have to adjust the clocks again, those little buttons will never wear out.
