Update On Donald

After conferring with the vet, and doing research on the internet, I decided to give Donald the surgery he needs. He will have his left leg amputated at the hip. The cancer is lower down on the leg, around what I guess would be his knee joint. The vet wants to remove all of the bone that may possibly be affected.  The X-rays showed that his lungs were clear of cancer. However, there is no guarantee that the cancer won't spread to some other organ of his body.  Amputation isn't a cure for cancer, it is considered a palliative treatment. This means that it does not cure the underlying cause, it only reduces the pain and suffering of the individual.
     In Donald's case, he has probably been in some discomfort from the cancer in his leg bone since I picked him up from the SPCA a little over a year ago. One of the symptoms of cancer in animals is that they hide. It is a natural instinct to want to conceal their weaknesses. He always had a funny sideways gait which I attributed to having to navigate slippery laminated floors. There must always have been a weakness in his leg which hindered him from jumping up onto high places. He can jump up onto the bed or couch now, but it is after a concentrated ready-set-jump effort in which he has to take extra time to gauge distance and height.
     On the day after the diagnosis I decided I had to "do" something. So what did I do? I went shopping. I bought Donald a 2' x 6' runner carpet to put in front of the bed. This effectively enlarged his comfort zone by 12 square feet. He can now jump up and down from the bed easier, and lounge beside the bed, instead of under it all the time. Donald is pleased with his new rug.

    Well, the surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning. Donald has been fasting since I left for work, and now that I'm home from work he's concerned because there is still no food or water down for him, not even a treat. I feel bad because I can tell he thinks he has done something wrong, committed some horrible crime to deserve this withholding of food. He's chortling and asking ever so politely, "Please Sir, may I have a bit to eat?"

    It's time for us to get to bed and try to get some rest for tomorrow. He'll curl up next to my pillow and purr me to sleep. It's going to be hard to fall asleep when he's away in the hospital.

Donald: A Cat's Life

Donald and I met on 11/12/2010 at the SPCA. I was much enamored of his orange tabby coat, but he would have none of it. He buried his face and allowed me to massage his ears because it soothed the itch of the ear mites from which he suffered, but that was the extent of his affection. He had me at meow.
    Ours has been an on again off again relationship. "On" when he needs a Can of moist food opened or his litter box cleaned.  "Off" when he is satiated and is satisfied that his poo and pee have been thus removed. Donald spent the first nine months of our relationship under the bed. I could lay in bed and listen to his large metallic purr emanate from under the bed. I assumed he was just playing Greta Garbo and he was telling me 'I vant to be alone'. So I gave him his space. Eventually, he came around.
     He was such a well behaved cat.  He always seemed appreciative, yet aloof.   Never jumping up on chairs, or tables, or counter tops. I thought it odd at first. Just not normal kitty behavior.  Since he was a stray found wandering on a military base, I figured he had been turned loose by a soldier deployed to Iraq or Afghanistan. I assumed that he had never been properly socialized, or worse yet that he had been abused. I spent nights wondering what was going on in that little kitty brain of his that he couldn't tell me about.
     Donald always spooked easily. No matter how carefully I moved he would dash to his 'safe place' under the bed.  I've seen him at the slightest sound hurl himself off the bed and wipe out on the laminated wood flooring as he scrambles under the bed.   I have a small apartment, an efficiency really, so there aren't that many places for him to hide. He never had any interest in the front door, never asked to be let out, never met me when I came home. In the interest of full disclosure, Donald is a 12 pound, well muscled, scaredy-cat.
    As time went on, Donald realized that 'hey, maybe I should pay some attention to this dude who is feeding me'.  So...if I lay quietly on the couch watching a movie, Donald would grudgingly jump up and bid for my attention. And so it went for months. The head of my bed is next to a window that looks out over the roof tops. When Donald realized that he could lay there and watch birds flutter by, or snowflakes drift by, of course that immediately became his spot.  So now I wake up each morning to a 12 pound cat in my face.
     Donald started limping around the time of his first vaccination, November of 2011.  At first I thought he jumped of the bed and landed wrong. It was holiday time of 2011 so I put it off.  While we were laying on the couch I would massage his leg, and I could feel a lump around what would be his knee. I became concerned so I made an appointment with the vet.

    We always hope that X-rays will rule out cancer. Today, they confirmed our worst fears. Donald was diagnosed with bone cancer.  Many things run through your head, until you are confronted with an X-ray.  It is there, in black and white, literally. Donald was a trooper through the whole thing. I know he doesn't like to be held or manipulated and yet he stood still while they took the x-rays. He is on pain meds and catnip now as he hides under the bed.
    Today our journey begins.

Book Review: Servant Of The Bones by Anne Rice

     Anne Rice lures the reader into her world with velvet and silk, gold and diamonds. Her characters speak in lush, sensuous sentences with moist full lips. In the first half of the book she had the main character, Azriel, telling the story through a dialogue with the narrator, Jonathon, which resulted in too much clunky dialogue. She abandoned this device about half way through, after she had established the history and had Azriel narrate the story himself more directly toward the reader. This allowed the story to flow much more smoothly into the modern day timeline.
     SOTB is a ghost story wrapped in a mystery. The spirit named Azriel has been summoned and he doesn't know why. He needs to put together the pieces of a puzzle.  He is here to learn and at the same time teach the other characters as much as he can about himself and the world in which they find themselves.  Along the way, he makes the reader think: What is a ghost? What is a spirit, an angel? We find out that there are stupid ghosts, and smart ghosts. There are upper echelons of spirits, and even angels, and of course pagan gods.  The idea that these forms all inhabit the same realm and intermingle is just glorious, and delicious.  If we see a ghost, is it evil or is it good? Or is it just lonely and bored? What if the ghost of Christmas Past could talk to Apollo? What would that conversation be like?
     As wonderful as Rice is, sometimes she reaches too far. Passages where she has Azriel explain things about modern times that the reader already knows become encyclopedic and boring. Fortunately, they are few and Rice has sense enough to cut herself off as if to say, but enough about that...let's get back to the story.Occasionally her brush stroke is too broad when it comes to any one religion, or moral, or ethic. It's best when Rice doesn't put too fine a point on it. When she does, it turns into a rant about the government, or ecology, or even humanity itself. And no one really wants to hear that.
     I have read Interview With A Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, and Queen Of The Damned. Yet nothing prepared me for this...I long for Azriel to tell me where he is and what he has seen since last we met.

Book Review: Jarhead by Anthony Swofford

   Swofford's Jarhead is not one of those dodgy, gauzy, misty-foggy memoirs. It takes the reader back to a specific place and time.
     It reminded me where I was and what I was doing when the Iraq invaded Kuwait. One day my boss came in the door all excited. 'We're going to war', he said. I put my nose back in my stack of veterinary medical records and continued what I was doing. I paid no attention to him because he was an idiot and a liar. In this instance he turned out to be right.  I was living in Arlington DC at the time, which is basically a bedroom community for our nations government. Fort Myer Army base and Henderson Hall Marine Barracks were right down the street from my house. 
    Back in the late eighties the term jarhead, while not exactly a term of endearment, was usually spoken with a slight roll of the eyes, perhaps a wink and a nod with a small downward smile. The Jarheads were considered the bad-boys in town, the class bullies. While they were usually harmless, one kept one's distance. 
     For example, one day I was walking to my neighborhood 7-11 for a soft drink and some snacks. I saw two jarheads walking up the street towards me. As they approached, one of them suddenly stepped toward me and popped me in the jaw hard enough to send me sprawling against a nearby railing. A group of Japanese tourists scrambled to their car, afraid to get caught in the possible melee that would ensue. I was just pissed off enough to confront them about it.  I yelled at them, "What'd you do that for?!" The one who hit me seemed taken aback that I even said anything, and he came up with a quick lie. He said, "Aren't you Joe? I thought you were Joe." He smirked at his buddy and kept walking.
    Swofford describes in granular detail what it was like to be on the front line. These guys were pumped, the adrenaline was flowing, somebody was going to get hurt.  I have read the book, and watched the movie. (I saw the movie first in the interest of full disclosure). The interesting thing was that the parts in the movie that seem so surreal are the same parts that seem surreal in the book; such as Swofford's run with his buddy, and the oil rain scenes. This surreal element may cause some people to doubt whether or not it is true.
     Based on my personal experience with jarheads, I believe that Swofford believes what he says is true.

Music: Metric vs Blondie

   I don't know. I'm a big eighties fan.

   Don't get me wrong, I love Metric, with songs like 'Gold Guns Girls' and 'Stadium Love' they break the mold. Yet they've tapped into a whole vibe that seems archaic and retro now, but that vibe used to be called punk and  new wave. Today it is called 'alternative'. Why is that?  Why is eighties music still relevant now? Metro is playing on college radio the way Blondie played on college radio back in the day

I'm posting both videos as a comparison. Notice the stiff legged dance, the shoulder shrug,  the color of the dress (black and gold stripe?), the shots of the band...the hair color of the lead singer.

and now Blondie...

Did they think nobody would notice? Which do you prefer? Please comment.

Travel: Roxbury NY, 2011

     People may wonder why I go to the Catskills. What is there to do? Where is there to go? The short answer to that is...The Roxbury Motel. The Roxbury Motel is the Disneyland of the Catskills.  Each room has a different theme. Think about your favorite escape. Is it: science fiction, comedy, drama? Then you will find it here. The attention to detail is exquisite and you will find yourself looking around your room to find a new detail you may have missed. All of the amenities are here, wet sauna, dry sauna, hot tub, reading room, conference room, continental breakfast room, the list goes on and on. And if you're feeling especially adventurous, schedule a massage in your own private treatment room. If you're the outdoorsy type (like me) then you'll want to find the closest hiking trail which is located down the street at the local park.  Ask any local and they will point you in the right direction.

http://www.theroxburymotel.com/ 

     Of course, you have to eat sometime. Then you could walk down the street to The Public, a storied restaurant. You will learn more by reading the menu. I recommend the personal pizza, and a beer.

http://www.publiclounge.net/ 

If you're looking for finer dining, then you will find it at The Andes Hotel, about a 30 minute drive from Roxbury. I recommend the Grilled Portabella Sandwich from the Tavern Menu, bite into it and you will swear you are eating a delicious roast beef sandwich.

http://www.andeshotel.com/

When you're ready to get out and about you might consider the various antique stores, art galleries, and used book stores that abound in the nearby villages. One of my favorite things to do is visit the Hobart Book Village.  I highly recommend the Bibliobarn which is excellent for those rainy afternoons which frequently occur in the Catskills.

http://www.hobartbookvillage.com/ 

Anyway, these are a few of the reasons I go to the Catskills, you will find many, many more.

Travel: Canajoharie, NY

Spring is a beautiful time to travel through the Mohawk Valley, and the Catskill Mountains. The trees are budding and give the valley a chartreuse glow, as forsythia bushes add yellow highlights. My travel buddy Craig and I arrived in Canajoharie, NY, the home the Beech-Nut Factory where wholesome foods like peanut butter, and baby foods were manufactured. The founders of the Factory were benefactors to the community and created the Arkell Museum which is located next to the factory. Another unique aspect of the museum is that it is combined with the local library to form a special learning experience.

http://www.arkellmuseum.org/

   During the time that I was there, a senior citizen group was visiting and they were rather chatty and noisy. It was a little distracting. There was a very good exhibit of Homer paintings that captured the bucolic settings of the area.

My hosts for the night were our friends Alfonso and Bruce who own a beautifully restored turn of the century farm house complete with a barn and all of the out-buildings. We were joined for dinner by a couple more friends and we shared wine out in the gardens until dinner was served. Alfonso and Bruce are vegetarians so the dinner was healthy, and filling! We had pasta with mushroom sauce, corn on the cob, tomato and cucumber salad and a delicious baked beet with fetta cheese dish. For dessert, Craig brought a rum cake baked by his mother. The cake was oozing with rum. The wine and conversation flowed into the evening. I finally crashed in a quilt covered bed, as the lights from across the valley twinkled through my bedroom window.


    The next morning we were treated to a brunch of grilled cheese sandwiches, and broiled asparagus. A perfect meal to send us on the next leg of our journey.

more soon...
Preston