I Need a Nap

Sitting together on the grass in the barn lot, I said to Toby, "I've got a lot on my mind today."

"Well, tell me about it," he said while keeping an eye on the flock of chickens not too far away. His tail flapped up and down a couple of assertive waves as one of the roosters crowed and flapped his wings. The hens ignored all of us.

"I have 16 medical, dental, PT, OT, and lab appointments crammed into five weeks' time!"

"Spoils of aging," he said. "By the way, what's OT?"

"Occupational therapy."

"Aren't you occupied? What's the matter, are you bored? I never get bored," he said. "I just take a nap."

"No, no, not that kind of occupation..."

"I hope you're not going back to work!"

"Ugh no," I grimaced. "OT means therapy to help your body parts do tasks, such as my right hand needs help these days. Some unpronounceable syndrome is getting out of hand... yes, I meant that pun. Anyway, who wants to hire an 82-year-old woman!"

"I'm 11 years old," he said. "Nobody ever hired me for anything! But then, I'm not for hire. Still, I earn my keep if you know what I mean."

"Yes, I get it," I said, then quickly erased my mind's image. I kept his age in human years to myself.

"You must be dizzy from all those appointments you're going to!"

"Well maybe, but I'm learning a lot. Our country's human health care system has no brain and is missing a heart."

"Veterinary care isn't a system. Is it?" he asked.

"Nope, not a bit. Animal care has its office visits or doctors or animal hospitals just like human care. Yes, you can buy animal insurance, especially for big deal live-stock studs, racehorses, maybe some pet owners. But the really, really big money here in the good ol' US of A--is all about human insurance in exchange for health care. Insurance companies chase dollar signs, twist and strangle and transmogrify human care. Instead of taking care of people, the insurance system takes care of itself. We still have human health care doctors and treatments and hospitals and therapists, and such. All good, just like for animals. But not everybody can have it and nobody can pay for it. Every teensy, weensy part of human care must be squeezed through a gigantic insurance pasta maker and after a while, a dollar-sign noodle comes out and it says, 'you can or can't have this operation, or that test, or this pill, or see this or that doctor in this or that group, or go to this or that hospital, and by-the-way that procedure, while you were unconscious in the ER, was out of network, so put your home on the market and go live in your car...'" 

"I don't want to live in a car," he said.

"Me neither!"

"I guess we're the lucky ones he said. I've got the barn to live in, and you've got health insurance and some retirement for my vet bills, so we don't have to live in a car."

"Well, even so, I have to be careful my health needs don't awaken some non-covered insurance wrinkle so "health care" vacuums up whatever dollars I have left." I didn't want to think about that ending his vet care, too.

Toby licked a front paw and vigorously scrubbed his face, then stretched out to his full length.

The chickens edged closer in their ground pickings and scratchings. One of the roosters crowed. Toby got up and started back to the barn.

"I need a nap," he said.

*

From the Art Desk:

Shed at the Farm & Rose of Sharon

And, I really enjoyed finding this website... Keoni Bolding.

From Tucson, we hear from Bob, including his monsoon photos...

"I’ve never seen so many butterflies in my life. They’re having group sex all the time, and the roads out here...are just littered with the carcasses of butterflies who thought they could cross the road with impunity. Thousands of pollywogs are maturing into baby frogs in [the nearby] wash. The local hiking trails are being overrun with grasses, bushes, cacti, and such. It’s really amazing what an over productive monsoon creates. Water; what a gift!"

*

Where's My Spark?

"Toby, I can't find my spark," I said in an angst-y kind of way.

He stretched out his long length on the screen porch deck and rolled over onto his back to let the afternoon sun warm his underside.

"What do you mean by 'spark'," he asked.

"The thing that happens when I get going with something and there are no hours or minutes, no thoughts, just immersed and alive."

"I get it," he replied, "sort of like when I capture a rat; it's dinner and a show...hors d'oeuvres, cocktails, main course, and dessert."

I tried hard not to picture that, but he seemed empathetic in his cat way. 

It was my turn to ask, "Is that your spark? Hunt a rat and turn it into entertainment, cocktails, hors d'oeuvres, main course, and dessert?"

He added, "and sometimes after-dinner drinks." I have to remind myself his cousins are tigers.

"Then, do I just eat, drink and be merry?" I asked.

"Sounds good to me," he answered. 

Hmmm. 

"How did your field hunt go?" I asked him.

"Nada yesterday, so I went back to the barn and ate the canned stuff," he answered. 

"I went back, too," I told him, "though not to the barn. My friends Paula and Carl shared a bit of their vegetarian experience. They don't worry about the legume-grain thing and are perfectly healthy. Also, they sent me a chocolate chip zucchini brownie recipe."

"So," I went on, "I took stock of my omnivorous inclinations and realized even though I'm not a full-bore vegetarian, my eats fall largely on the plant side. Over years I've reduced meat, eggs, and dairy--a lot! I reviewed my scattered mental thoughts, then made a conscious, intentional resolution--as much as possible and my pocketbook allows--to not use industrial agriculture foods--especially meats. I want to help cool down our planetary situation. The small amount of meat I use will now come exclusively from local, responsible, sustainable, (animal and human) humane sources. Some of them I've already been using. Wendy sure has, plus her garden. I'm still researching fish sources."

Toby responded, "makes me happy I'm a carnivore!" He hopped up into the chair next to me and we sat quietly for a couple minutes. Then, he said, "I saw you were wearing a mask again when we went to the vet for my annual. What's going on?"

"There's Covid's Delta variant spreading everywhere now."

"What! I thought you humans were beating down this pandemic."

"Not enough humans have gotten the vax, my buddy, so the virus gets to have its way. Some folks couldn't get to a vaccine or have a medical condition that says it's not okay, some were afraid, some delayed getting a jab, and a big bunch of noisy ones scream something about 'personal freedom' and refuse to step up and get their vax."

"Good grief! What about the rest of the world?" he asked.

"Humans around the world divided the land into countries, and some countries can't get the needed vaccines because they don't have enough money or people who hold power mess it all up big time. So the virus is spreading faster and farther and now is coming back to bite our USA collective butts. So it's back to masks, distancing, curtailed activities of all sorts."

"I didn't think I'd appreciate my rabies booster at the vet's, but now I do," he said, "Oh, and that distemper one, too."

"Yeah, I'm glad we got you caught up with your vaxes," I agreed. "Do you know I have had the rabies shots, too?"

"Whatever for? he asked, "The dogs and I aren't going to bite you!"

"Oh, it was back when I worked in a medical animal research facility. It was required."

It was his turn to be shocked. "What!!! you never told me."

"I'm sorry, my friend, I didn't think of it until now since all these people haven't gotten the Covid vaccine. I accepted just fine that the rabies vax required by the job protected me and others, including the animals, but these decades later, I have misgivings about that job itself--I must have been awfully numb and I feel sad about it now. But as for vaccines, rabies was just one of the vaccines required--it was a hospital setting so I had to have flu, tetanus, and hepatitis vaxes, also I was tested regularly for TB and Valley Fever to protect the patients and me."

"That's a lot to think about," he said.

We sat quietly for a bit. He stayed so I think he forgave me for that job and for his hated, upsetting car ride to the vet's; even so, he didn't mind the kind veterinarian. A cool breeze wafted through, my mind drifted to pleasant things.

After a bit, he said, "about your spark question..."

My mental image of chocolate chip zucchini brownies faded. He clambered from his chair over onto my lap, then on his hind legs he stretched his front up and over my shoulder. Pressed against my ear, he rubbed his head in my hair and I could hear the rhythmic rumble in his chest. Hours and minutes and thoughts disappeared.

*

From the Arts Desk:

Keoni with his piano accompanist Melivia Raharjo won the Duo Competition at Music Academy of the West...both in fine form...

Congratulations!
Keoni and Melivia

A phone call from Keoni just before I launched this last night revealed not only his joyful excitement over recent accomplishments and competitions won, but a widening circle of friends and collaborators, and opportunities unfolding. And, it revealed that I miss him a lot, especially after the long pandemic time he spent back home at the farm. 

________

And, we have July's installment from Paula. In her words...

"A celebration of the biodiversity of the Sonoran Desert through the lens of color."

In case you are wondering what the July 10th "haboob" is--it's a fast-moving dust storm that an in-coming monsoon season storm blows ahead of itself. I can almost smell the rain that makes these wonderful desert colors that Paula's rendered so well.