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.

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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!"

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