The Uphill Slide

There is always something.

Who Is Family?

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One of our family members had surgery yesterday and was feeling nauseous last night. She threw up all over the bed, but her surgery really was necessary.

Last year Boots had a surprise litter of German Shorthair/Boykin Spaniel offspring on Martin Luther King’s birthday. Cary was home alone and walked into the living room to find Boots with a teensy tiny puppy. She texted me and her father; we were both away. What could I do from a distance? And what did I know about birthing puppies anyway? The miracle of birth was threefold by the time I got home. We were so lucky to find adoptive parents for Boots’ puppies. We had always planned for her to have a purebred litter, but my husband couldn’t find the right male for her. And now she will never be a mother again. She would have had such cute little puppies, ones that looked just liked her.

Yesterday, she returned to the house looking a little silly in her plastic collar but too lethargic to care about appearances. I must share that sometimes a change brings new answers. Boots has been fighting ear infections for the last couple of years; they would seem to clear up and then return. We tried changing her diet. Her ear would improve but never a cure. This new vet seeing her pre-op announced she needed surgery on her ear. I was not happy thinking of the cost, but at last happy to have a new answer to this persistent problem. But before referring her on to a specialist, he suggested that he look deeper in her canal under anesthesia. He found a nodule and removed it. We hope that this might finally be the solution we have looked for and avoid further surgery.


She is also ID chipped for her new city life. One day I left her out to go to the bathroom without hooking her because I was watching her. Suddenly she saw what I hadn’t and was off like a bullet chasing the deer up the hillside as I screamed her name even after she was gone from sight. I panicked and got in my car to circle ’round the neighborhood calling her name. She did not have her license on her collar nor did she had the chip implanted yet. I worried how far she might run and her eventual intersection with traffic. By the time I pulled into the driveway, she had returned. There she stood on the porch oblivious to my worry, just like my kids. At least she knew her way back to the new home. Now I am also a litter less worried about any future escapes or suitors visiting the back yard.


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  1. Pingback: The Chronicles of Boots |

  2. Pingback: Feeling Alive |

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