Stress Happens

1. My 92yo Mother has shingles. She hurts.
2. My 90yo Dad asks the same questions 30 times.
3. My husband has cancer.
4. My neighbors have bad dogs and may be drug dealers.
5. The only thing I miss from my job is my paycheck, but I do miss that.
6. I have three granddaughters graduating from high school and a baby grandson due to be born, all within a few weeks.
7. Along with my brother, I will have POA for two childless aunts who are precious dotty old ladies, a la Arsenic and Old Lace, although they don't practice murder.
8. I have to update my husband's daughter, my good friend, about her father.
9. Gas is so expensive, I would feel guilty about taking the drives that used to calm my soul. I may do it anyway, especially when the dogwoods bloom. What price peace?
10. I realize that I have retired without many of the things I meant to do, and there is too much going on with my family now to do them.

Oh, well. This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.

Bad Dog!

We've had a problem with some new neighbors, or at least with their dogs. They had four pit bulls, although they have now gotten rid of the two pups. Max, the adult male, seems friendly enough, but the bitch, Lady, has shown nothing but nastiness. Last weekend, they pushed aside our doghouse and got into the pen and attacked our small Zipper. We were eating breakfast when I heard the three of them barking, but we knew Zipper was safely penned up. Wrong! By the time we heard him scream and ran out there, Lady had him on his back. Max was excited but didn't seem to be participating. We got the gate open and Max ran out, then with Lady distracted Zipper got away and ran out. Two stupid adult in a pen with an excited pitbull--not a good scene! But Max kept barking and Lady ran out and he led her home. We got Zipper and he seemed okay physically, just terrified. We kept him in the rest of the day and he started getting worse, trembling and groaning and seeming to have trouble breathing. When my husband reached down to pet him on the backside, he screamed, so we called the vet and took him in. She kept him for two days, having found a couple of small punctures. She said he was probably getting infected, so she put him on antibiotics and pain killers.

The next stage of this is that we told another neighbor, who told his son, who told the sheriff. I told the deputy we were not filing a complaint, yet, but somebody did, and he came out to serve some papers. The dogs would not let him get out of the car, although Lady is chained.

We don't know these neighbors. I met the woman earlier, and she seemed very nice. We met the man after the incident, and he was also nice and kept assuring us "this won't happen again!" But we don't know their history, except for some rumors which don't build any confidence in us. I don't understand why someone with small children would keep two such dogs. We live out in the country where there are no leash laws, and she said they were happy to find this house because their dogs needed some room.

I've always felt safe here, but now I don't even want to walk to the mailbox. Another neighbor has fixed me a spiked crutch with instructions to "let them bite on that," as if they would prefer the spiked stick to me. I let Zipper out this morning to do what I knew he must need to do, and the pitbulls started barking. Of couse he headed that way. I ran after him in my robe and socks, through the rain and mud, and the neighbor came out and helped me get him back home. This afternoon I took him out on a leash, which he does not like at all and which has not been necessary in the four years we've had him.

Life changes. Zipper doesn't understand. He cried to go outside and dig up some moles. I do understand, but I don't like it.

That Cancer Creature

Yesterday we got some news. His PSA is up, way past the cancer markers. Nine years of hot flashes and nausea, and that time they told us would come has. The hormones aren't working, the chemo pills haven't helped. Now what do we do? It's another 9 days until time to talk with the oncologist, who will probably call for more tests, more scans, more trials. The side effects may be worse than the cancer. Who knows? What do I say to my beloved if he says, "I don't want to do this anymore." I understand, but I just can't let him go. Not yet. I want to go out and fight this hard-to-find enemy with everything science as to offer. I pray, but it's really hard to say "Thy Will be done." I don't doubt, not much anyway, but the Scriptures that keep coming when I pray say things like "It is appointed unto man . . ." and "No temptation has come upon you . . . prepared a way." That has been proved often enough that I believe it.

So what do I say? How do I act? Bright and hopeful? Sympathetic? Sad? Resigned? Strong? Weak? I just don't know. I just love him. Maybe nothing else really matters.