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It’s a good day today. My Muse, aka The Pig (L’il Sis’ beagle) is with me for the day and is sitting behind me, snoring like a freight train, and as she does so, she inspires me! I have missed her since L’il Sis moved out. Oh, I’ve had the occasional visit from her and have sporadically looked after her, but it’s just not the same as having her live here. I may complain about her bad habits but I love her and jump at any chance to enjoy her company.

This opportunity came about in an alarming way. A call around dinner time last night from L’il Sis (after I’d had some wine and shouldn’t drive) alerted me that all was not well. L’il Sis’ voice was high strung and I could tell immediately she was struggling to hold it together.

“Piggy had a small seizure,” she began.

She explained that they had just returned from the vet and The Pig seemed her usual self, running up the stairs, begging for dinner, nothing giving away her recent trauma.

“Do you need me to come over?” I asked reluctantly, wondering if a DUI trumped a dog with seizures.

“No, Mom. I’m sure you’ve already settled in after dinner with wine to watch bad television. I wouldn’t want you to drive.” (Was it my terrible nighttime eyesight that bothered her or the drinking? Hard to say…)

“So …I don’t want to leave her alone tomorrow while I’m at work. Do you suppose…?”

“Not to worry. I’ll be happy to look after her.”

We made arrangements to meet in the parking lot of L’il Sis’ work where we exchanged the dog and her travel kit. (Why did this have all the markings of a parking lot drug deal? Stay tuned and you’ll see where I’m going with this!) The Pig never travels light but this time there was an extra little surprise. She came with a bottle of valium and two rubber gloves.

“Valium?”I asked, my hopes rising. My stress level has skyrocketed lately and my doctor gave me a small supply to ease my rattled nerves. But my supply is rapidly diminishing. Never one to miss an opportunity, I gazed wistfully at the bottle. “Any chance I could pilfer a few of those if Piggy doesn’t need them?” I asked tentatively.

L’il Sis, as always, magnanimous to a fault, retorted: “Sure. Knock yourself out. But they’re suppositories.”

“Oh…”

And so, as I sit writing this blog, I have valium suppositories and rubber gloves next to me — just in case. And the stairs behind me are barricaded with two large boxes and two chairs so The Pig won’t fall or try to go down them by herself. (She is trying to breach the barricade in moves that would be the envy of El Chapo.)

On top of that, as I hurried around getting ready to leave the house in the morning to pick up my charge, my stress level rose and I began having my now too frequent heart palpitations. The medical tests I’ve had recently haven’t shown anything major, but I suspect my brain is telling me: “Now is the time to panic.” My heart acts accordingly. So now we have the scenario of the lady who is one step away from  a heart incident ‘looking after’ a dog with seizures (not to mention the possible cancer in her breast) for the day. The sick leading the infirm. Terrific!

And when we go for a walk today, I will take the valium and rubber gloves, her poop bag, a snack (for me), and my Driver’s License and Health Card. This presupposes that I will be willing, should The Pig have a seizure, to crouch in a snowdrift and push the valium up her ass or, if I have an issue myself, that The Pig will call for 911 on my behalf. What a pair…

I’m going out to dinner this evening and will have to leave The Pig alone for a few minutes before L’il Sis arrives. I will leave her notes about the patient’s day, emergency numbers as to where I’ll be this evening (which means I’ll be on edge the entire night waiting for the dreaded phone call.)

But I’m trying to keep myself on an even keel. Except for Gill’s email about her worsening Crohn’s and the necessary but unpleasant tests she will have to undergo (not to mention, if things get bad enough, surgery), I am attempting to have a productive, relaxing day. ..with the knowledge that, if things really take a turn, The Pig and I can share her suppositories. Well, perhaps that didn’t come out quite the way I intended. I meant that, given no better options, I will give myself one of her suppositories and pray for the best. In the meantime, she remains My Muse.

I dare any of our readers to admit to having a day quite like this!

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