It’s been thirteen days since the dog has three teeth pulled and his gums treated with a process where they put cement-like stuff along his receding gum line to keep bacteria and germs from getting down inside and causing puss pockets. A normal dog has 42 teeth, Levi has fifteen left and the ones he has left are the most important ones for eating and keeping his tongue from falling out of him mouth. He’s twelve years old and in human years that makes him 84, way older than my great-niece who had a Facebook posting today announcing that she’s scheduled to get most of her teeth pulled and will end up having a full denture plate on top and a partial plate on the bottom. I was shocked. She has children who aren’t even old enough to be in school yet. She wrote that the pain was daily and she couldn’t stand it anymore and she didn’t want any lectures on how she should have taken been care of her teeth. I left a comment about sending healing thoughts and hugs her way and Levi got an extra helping of sympathy at the same time. I’ve only had one tooth pulled in my entire life, knock on wood, and if I’ve ever had a toothache it wasn’t bad enough to remember.
Tomorrow Levi can go back to having hard food and treats again and not a minute too soon. He’s been a royal pain with his fussy eating and begging and I’m SO ready for him to go back to his regular fare. I bought him two weeks’ worth of canned foods that he had zero interest in so I gave it to my house cleaning girl for her dog rather than return it to the pet store and possibly exposing myself to Covid-19 again. Frankly I don’t blame Levi, that stuff looks disgusting. In its place I’ve had to soak his regular kibble in warm water for him to eat. I don’t know what that stuff is made of but it takes FOREVER to soften up…a good half hour. It’s a half hour of hell and frustration because I keep forgetting to factor that into our dinner hour. He likes to eat when I do. Don’t let anyone tell you schnauzer stubbornness is a myth. I’ve had dogs all my life and even after twelve years Levi and I are still fighting over who is the boss in this house. Hey, lady, where is my dinner? You should have served me fifteen minutes ago! I swear he’s got a clock in his head that gets the signals sent out from Fort Collins in Colorado that keeps all the atomic clocks in the our country in sync.
Thursday the son-I-wish-I-had was here to pick up a load of stuff to drop off at the auction house. I love that guy and it pains me that he’s a Trump supporter. He’s also a devout Christian, a straight-as-an-arrow honest person with a wild sense of humor and a ton of grandchildren. He married his childhood sweetheart, both virgins on their wedding night and they are totally devoted to one another. I try so hard to understand how he can support a man with no character, no moral compass, who lies about all things large and small. All I can really pin point regarding his support for Trump is that he lives in a small town of under 3,000 people, in the reddest of red rural counties and he’s totally surrounded by people who are FOX devotees.
When I asked him
how he can support such a mean-spirited person whose words and actions are so
un-Christian he said, “I’m not voting for a minister, I have one of those.” I told
him the president has made us lose our standing in the world but he sees that as plus, likes the go-it-alone isolationism that
Trump brings to the table. On the pandemic he said that Trump can't do anything more than he does because we're not supposed to be a Federalist country and it's up to the states to deal with it. I didn’t try to change his opinion on anything, where would I even start? But hearing him talk I'm worried about the election because I know so many people who
are planning to vote Trump back into office. I’ve even questioned if I’m not
the one who is brain-washed, that I’m not seeing any of the so-called good
things that Trump has done for our country. And I keep coming back to ‘hell,
no!’ All I see is divisiveness, disrespect for the Rule of Law and incompetence.
The son-I-wish-I had was here for two and a half hours and we had a great visit! We touched on a dozen topics, swapping e-Bay stories, sharing memories of good time. We talked local auctions verse Market Place and we bartered a couple of great deals that made us booth extremely happy. He’s going to paint my porch ceiling and four outside door trims in exchange for me giving him my 1920s Hoosier cabinet. And we bartered him digging up Levi’s fire hydrant so I can sell it and moving an oak bookcase from one room to another for a 1902 Malt Maker that I had put in the auction lot he was here to pick up. He’s lusted after both pieces for a long time. It was a win-win deal for both of us and it felt like old times. We've had a bartering history that goes back nearly forty years. ©