Giving a 10th or 11th Life is at Your Fingertips

Moochie, Age 15

Today please visit the 9 Lives Foundation and help save an incredible haven for felines. There will be more about animal rescue on this blog but for today, see what a dedicated vet has accomplished and is in danger of losing. If you can donate $ or time, yay. Otherwise, just "click" on http://www.theanimalrescuesite.com/clickToGive/  and indicate where you want your vote to go (9 Lives Foundation). The group may win enough dough to stay open for another month.

Can Your Fridge Do This?

 Our shiny new fridge is a thing of beauty. Even if it did nothing but sit there in the kitchen I would be pleased with the aesthetic improvement. Add to that filtered water, rather exuberant ice dispenser, spacious interior and the fact that it actually keeps food fresh, cold and, where needed, frozen solid, all is good. But the steel pony has another trick.

Are you ready? There is a digital photo display on the door.

I've downloaded photos to the fridge (what a nutty concept) and we play slideshows of our "album." On the fridge. It's neat and tidy, fun and unexpectedly cool.

Be nice and maybe you'll appear in future slideshows. We'll think of you when we reach for the milk and eggs.

How Does He Do It?

How does another human being reduce me to tears? Every time I visit the current Agent of Doom (I'll change the label when the behavior changes) it never fails. No matter how upbeat I am when I walk in the door I will, at some point, find my eyes begin to well up. IF I'm lucky, the tears don't flow over the banks and down my face until after the Agent has left the room. I'm rarely lucky. We spend much of the time dancing on egg shells, trying not to offend each other. No one has forgotten (or understood) my leaving another doctor's care in the practice. There must be a code on my chart: "Difficult patient. Cries easily. Be wary and tread lightly." 

Only, no one does the one thing I really want them to do.  
Listen. Listen to me. 

I am not the last patient you saw, nor the one you're going to see tomorrow. I'm not even the same "me" who began treatment three years ago. And when you have listened to me, if you could take it one step beyond that and let me know that you heard what I said and respond in a professional manner I would be grateful. I might even feel respected and hopeful that I am part of a "care team" described in your marketing brochure. 

I most certainly would not cry.