Tag Archives: Odysseus

History

Last week our dog, Zoe (Greek for Life) turned ten. The other day she took her first “senior” blood panel.” The vet called the next day and said it was “beautiful.” Then she said if she doesn’t gain weight she may have cancer, and that blood work has no indications for cancer so she needs x-rays and ultrasound.

Zoe is 1.6# from my goal but my new vet has not disclosed her weight goal. I’ve done a lot of research and talked to two other vets, including her hip surgeon of nearly ten years ago.

Val the Vet, Zoe’s hip surgeon, is an Aggie, is top notch in veterinary circles as there were few women in the field back then. She says the blood-work should have shown something and that Zoe’s coat is “luxurious” and that a nutritional absorption problem should be dealt with by probiotics, which our current vet recommended and will arrive tomorrow. Her weight goal for Zoe is 32 pounds.

I have fought for Zoe her entire life, since she came to us at six weeks (having been spayed at five weeks of age, shameless) and we’ve had her nearly ten years. Aside from her bad hips, diagnosed at five months, she’s been healthy. But we’ve moved across the country several times (she loves the car and her orthopedic bed in the back and only sits up at off-ramps) and have several vets.

Our government allows doctors to keep our records on file and use them for (and against) us. I have Zoe’s files. I know Zoe better than any vet ever will because I give her the best food and care and keep her on the European pet travel scheme for the past nine years in case we are sent overseas.

Vets, know that I have her file. It’s a file of her adoption, former name, and every vet visit and obedience class. Telling me she may have cancer with not a hint in the blood work may just mean she’s getting older and her body is changing.

I will work with a vet on Zoe’s behalf and have no problem changing vets if I think someone can give her better care because I know her better than anyone else.

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Greeks and Turks

I grew up loving the ancient Greeks and learning the culture as I’ve visited there a bit. The last time was tracing the route of Odysseus through the Ionian sea.

Turkey, not so much. I always wanted to go and my father and brother have gone twice over the past year and I always benefit from their travels. This weekend I’ll hang an artisinal trivet on my kitchen wall. It’ll be around the corner from my gorgeous newly-framed photos from Korfu, Zakynthos and Lefkada.

Also, I’m wearing a Turkish bracelet all the time, except in the shower. The shake reminds me of Greek worry beads.

I think you were meant to be together all these centuries. Luckily the choices we make for our dog with vet et al are not yet between Scylla and Charybdis. Yes, I saw it and also went through the Strait of Corinth from horrific seas.

All the cargo ships saw this small sailing boat bobbing around like a cork and called it in asking for us to go through the strait first. I hope we get some calm seas around here sometime soon, and hope our lifelong companion will be OK. Cheers, Dee

Monks and Odysseus

Just before 9/11 our families traversed the Ionian seas following the trail of the legendary Odysseus, gone for ten years from wife Penelope and their dog.

Of course the better name for the travels was “Chasing Ulysses” which is the Roman and not the Greek god, chosen by my dear brother of course.

After not seeing them for years (storage), I framed three long photos (film not digital) the other day and they look gorgeous in our entryway. One from Corfu, one from Zakynthos and the third from Lefkada. My dad would be proud.

On every island I picked up a sarong or two for $2 apiece. Having gone to a Catholic college I figured there would be a dress code at this monastery in Corfu. We hired a bus to take us all there and I sneaked about ten sarongs into my backpack for the day trip.

When I saw the monk at a table by the door I told all the gals what to do. He was checking to see if we had the appropriate clothing to enter. I didn’t want any problems so I whipped out the sarongs. You, with the tank top, cover your arms. You cover your head. You, with the shorty shorts, make this into a skirt.

We got by without a hitch and gave the monestery small donations as a thank-you for our visit.

These photos, 3×10 vertical, are from another age, pre-9/11. I put them in albums before I even got home as we watched CNN for days. Our worlds have changed since then. Nearly two weeks after I cried in front of the LAX customs agent and after a look at my passport he simply said, Welcome Home. Yes, I cried some more en route to my next gate.

All I know is that the Italians were wonderful to me as I attended services with the Consulate staff and held hands with 500 in the Piazza Signoria for the symbolic ringing of the bell. Neighbors obliged by banging on our door at 4:10 in the afternoon and calling CNN! CNN! Workers were there and we all huddled in the den watching CNN.

And the Greeks whose boat we’d been on for the past ten days called to ask if our families were OK. My brother was about to go into the north tower for a meeting about ten minutes before it blew up. Luckily the person he was meeting cancelled it beforehand.

Two lessons learned. Always keep an eye out for danger, and make certain ladies have their arms and legs covered in a church. Dee

Greece pre-9/11

Greece pre-9/11