I don't know who said "People live too long and dogs don't live long enough."
I haven't had a dog live a long time since the collie my mom bought me as a little girl died when I was in my 20's. I've always had big dogs; then one day it occurred to me I can't deal with them breaking my heart every seven years. When my Bouvier died, I opted for small, cute and portable. I had no idea how "big" small can be.
This is Bodhi, a.k.a. Bodes, the Bod-monster, Bo-Dee, shithead, my shit-zoo. "Bodhi" means enlightened but she's not. She's growly at her food bowl, grumpy at bedtime and wonderfully cuddly in the morning when she needs to get her speckled belly rubbed. I love her to death.
Princess is my grateful and loving adopted Lhasa and Bobby is my rescue parrot. I love them too, but yesterday it was all about the Bodes. She's seven years old. I'm a little paranoid. Their fur grows into their eyes and they get infected easily. The rescue sites frequently show pictures of Shih Tzus who've had an eye removed.
This is Bodhi, a.k.a. Bodes, the Bod-monster, Bo-Dee, shithead, my shit-zoo. "Bodhi" means enlightened but she's not. She's growly at her food bowl, grumpy at bedtime and wonderfully cuddly in the morning when she needs to get her speckled belly rubbed. I love her to death.
Princess is my grateful and loving adopted Lhasa and Bobby is my rescue parrot. I love them too, but yesterday it was all about the Bodes. She's seven years old. I'm a little paranoid. Their fur grows into their eyes and they get infected easily. The rescue sites frequently show pictures of Shih Tzus who've had an eye removed.
Bodhi's right eye was infected; again. I can't afford to get her groomed these days. I just learned how to trim her hair short around her eyes, but I think it got irritated before I got that skill mastered. (Close the eye with your fingers, trim the hair that extends past your finger with blunt nose scissors; works like a charm.)
But she already had an irritation. I'm short on bucks and worried about surviving financially to the end of the year. I only buy only what I need. I battle depression when I'm afraid. And now I needed to take her to the vet. She was the top of my worries; if anything happened to her, I would be inconsolable.
But she already had an irritation. I'm short on bucks and worried about surviving financially to the end of the year. I only buy only what I need. I battle depression when I'm afraid. And now I needed to take her to the vet. She was the top of my worries; if anything happened to her, I would be inconsolable.
Going to the vet is another thing to stress about. I go to Our Hope on Pondella in North Fort Myers. It's a low cost ragtag office with lousy decor and really good people. Most of the people and pets who come here are having a hard time of it. I've seen it all - a well-dressed man making a scene, insisting he be allowed to write a check instead of paying by credit or debit. (Sorry buddy.) People arriving with rescues. One woman arrived with a feral kitten somebody shot. There was a long line that day. Nobody offered to let her go first (except me and I was way down on the list).
She left crying with a silent shoebox.
The drama can be overwhelming for someone who channels the pain of the animals and the people who love them. I was already stressed when I called and made the appointment; I was glad they had an opening that gave me just enough time to shower and go.
The drama can be overwhelming for someone who channels the pain of the animals and the people who love them. I was already stressed when I called and made the appointment; I was glad they had an opening that gave me just enough time to shower and go.
Princess was not happy about not being able to go with. Bobby the Cockatoo hates to see me leave, but I heard his sweet "bub-bye" all the way out to the car.
There was no line. I was amazed. I got right in. The vet said I had done the right thing bringing her in. He operated on her eyelid a few months ago, she had a lump removed. I worry about cancer.
I think the vet might be from Jamaica; he's a quiet, capable man. His assistant is a hoot. She's probably in her 40s. She can be hard as nails; I guess she has to be. But I can see the twinkle in her eye.
I think the vet might be from Jamaica; he's a quiet, capable man. His assistant is a hoot. She's probably in her 40s. She can be hard as nails; I guess she has to be. But I can see the twinkle in her eye.
There was a man I didn't know hanging around; her husband. He was helping out because the squirrel receptionist I always wondered about had been ... um, let go or something.
As I stood there holding Bodes for the vet, the assistant's husband came in and asked me to turn around to see the precious bundle of fur in a cage about eye-level. A baby Pomeranian. He had been found in a home where the breeders just got too old to handle things. The wife died, the breeding pair continued breeding as the old widower got Alzheimer's. The assistant told me the dogs had been neglected and were so flea infested this precious little puppy was in his last 24 hours of life. Of course her care brought him back.
Someone walked in the front door and she walked out to see who it was. I heard snippets ... "feral kitten" ... "walked right in" ... "she's sick, I'm not sure what she needs." The assistant said something about a flea bath and they both laughed about the hazards of trying to bathe a feral cat. I didn't think much of it, I was worried about Bodhi.
The vet was worried about her tear ducts, they might be clogged. He gave me antibiotics and some special antibiotic they create from the pet's own blood. I waited out front for that and saw the person who brought the cat in.
Someone walked in the front door and she walked out to see who it was. I heard snippets ... "feral kitten" ... "walked right in" ... "she's sick, I'm not sure what she needs." The assistant said something about a flea bath and they both laughed about the hazards of trying to bathe a feral cat. I didn't think much of it, I was worried about Bodhi.
The vet was worried about her tear ducts, they might be clogged. He gave me antibiotics and some special antibiotic they create from the pet's own blood. I waited out front for that and saw the person who brought the cat in.
He was a tall old guy, very well dressed. The kitten was orange and white and he had her in a nice red fabric traveling case. We were alone in the lobby, so I looked at him and asked what was going on. He said he had opened the door last night and she walked in. "She was sick. Animals know to go to humans for help when they're sick." I'd never heard that before. I liked the sounds of it.
He turned to look out the window. I asked him something else and he completely ignored me. I was hurt. Then the receptionist walked out and asked him a question and he ignored her too. She looked at me and said "he's pretty deaf" ... so I waved to get his attention and pointed to her.
He and the cat were invited into the vet's work area. I didn't hear what was going on until they walked back out. It was going to cost so much for this and so much for that. Did he want to have the work done?
I wondered how he would respond. He was obviously retired and retired folks are scraping by with fixed incomes and rising food prices.
He said "this is a life, I have an obligation to save it." Lump in throat; some faith in humanity restored.
The assistant - who has her own zoo of rescues - said "this lucky girl picked the right door."
Amen.
He sat again and waited. They must have been running tests. He unzipped the bag and stroked the cat. He had named her "Scooter." What a great old guy name for a cat.
He turned to look out the window. I asked him something else and he completely ignored me. I was hurt. Then the receptionist walked out and asked him a question and he ignored her too. She looked at me and said "he's pretty deaf" ... so I waved to get his attention and pointed to her.
He and the cat were invited into the vet's work area. I didn't hear what was going on until they walked back out. It was going to cost so much for this and so much for that. Did he want to have the work done?
I wondered how he would respond. He was obviously retired and retired folks are scraping by with fixed incomes and rising food prices.
He said "this is a life, I have an obligation to save it." Lump in throat; some faith in humanity restored.
The assistant - who has her own zoo of rescues - said "this lucky girl picked the right door."
Amen.
He sat again and waited. They must have been running tests. He unzipped the bag and stroked the cat. He had named her "Scooter." What a great old guy name for a cat.
When they left it occurred to me he probably needs her as much as she needs him. Every once in a while God works these beautiful little miracles.
(24 hours later, Bodhi's eye already looks much better. Thank God for good vets: Our Hope Center, 893 Pondella Road, North Fort Myers, FL 33903; 239- 543-7387)
(24 hours later, Bodhi's eye already looks much better. Thank God for good vets: Our Hope Center, 893 Pondella Road, North Fort Myers, FL 33903; 239- 543-7387)
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