Anesthesia: The Aftermath

Anesthesia: the aftermath My Achilles rupture happened just a couple of weeks before bow season opened in Arkansas. Back in those days, I was as fanatical about archery as I am about motorcycles today; I had spent months that summer scouting and preparing a spot in the woods a few miles from the Casa. Then bang, so to speak, the sound of a snapping tendon brought that to an end. Not so fast, weedhopper; what…

Responsibility

I would love to delete the following post and move on, but I although I have the right to be silent, I lack the ability. Here is the unedited content concerning the abandonment of Titus Pillow to the care of the Casa del Whackos : <"Whatever the story of the humans may be, one has to hope that someone cared enough to bring her to you. Shelters are overrun and euthanizing is pricey and difficult.…

I had a name

I had a name. Sometimes it was on my collar, sometimes embedded in a microchip, but more often than not, any reference to my identity has been removed; not to protect the innocent, but to shield the cowardly guilty. But the fact remains that I did have a name, and an identity, and a place in a social hierarchy before being unceremoniously dumped to fend for myself in a world that I couldn't imagine even…

What if…

Dad here; its been two weeks since the accident, and span seems like an eternity for someone who desperately needs to be figuring out what comes next, but the revolving door of pain, pain medication, and the general feeling of uselessness acquired from laying supine on the couch crowds any thoughts of creativity from one's brain. Mom's first response when she heard of my predicament was one of pity, to have covered over two thousand…

Snitches get stitches

Psst! Hey, Claire! Whassup, Ajax? Mom's gone! Alex called, seems to have locked herself out of her apartment getting ready for work, and mom took off over there with her lock-picking skills to save the day! And she took Marco the Narco with her, that yappy little tattletail! That means that dad is alone and particularly vulnerable with that cast on his leg, and more importantly, there are no witnesses! Ajax, you're leaving out two…

Anesthesia IV: remember the puppies

The final installment in the Saga The road to recovery from an Achilles tendon rupture is a long one, over eight months in a cast or boot of some sort. At first there's the description; "tendon" and "rupture" are two words that should be forbidden by law to be mentioned in the same room, let alone the same sentence. Then there's the procedure; after re-attachment, I was sent home in a cast with my toes…

The best cure for loneliness is being alone

Have you ever noticed that your times of most acute loneliness are often in the company of people that you know very well? Or even worse, in a social setting that you possibly helped introduce a newcomer to the group, only to later find yourself the outsider? Before you know it, you seem to be on the outside looking in, your opinions sought only after the actual decision has been made, the easy banter that…
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