I have grievously injured the Cowboy. However, he has forgiven me.
Miss Sadie has not.
It all began when we went to the mailbox for the paper, and the Cowboy found something unusually smelly and vile to roll in, even by his standards, and then, upon being scolded, figured might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb and went and rolled in the dry leaves and thistles and burrs in my wildlife corridor out front. I do not have a picture of that.
It was necessary to bathe him, but before he could even be bathed he had to be shorn. Clip clip went the scissors. I was making great headway, creating numerous piles of nestbuilding materials out on the deck.
However, I grew impatient, and went too fast, and the next thing you know, I had laid open the hide on the poor Cowboy’s leg, right on that part that would be a knee if he had knees. Having recently done pretty much the same thing to myself, I knew perfectly well how much it hurt and I was beside myself with guilt. Off to the vet we went, where the Cowboy was cosseted, anesthetized, and stitched up right smartly. I was sent off in disgrace while the Cowboy was in recovery. I half expected the vet to say “Maybe you’d like to shop for some flying monkeys or something?”
I took Miss Sadie for a walk around Bellaire in the ridiculous 80-degree heat. We admired the Victorian houses, all very going-to-see-the-wizard.
We visited the nature trail behind the Senior Center. I took comfort from the cowslips that were growing along the creek, even though they, too, seemed a little Oz-like.
I got a splinter in my foot taking that picture. Miss Sadie said that was simple justice. I limped back to the vet’s office and forked over $300 of my hard-earned cash to retrieve the spaniel. He was glad to see me in spite of my evil ways, although it is possible that he was merely woozy from the drugs. This is the closest I am going to get to showing you his wound. It is all I can bear.
Every single thing that can bloom in the spring was in bloom during a two-hour period this afternoon, and my sinuses are screaming. Miss Sadie says that is only proper, and that I should be glad I didn’t have to have stitches. She looks thoughtful. Stitches for me could still be arranged.
Thank goodness a thunderstorm is rolling across the Bay. We need rain badly, and if the barometric pressure does not change my head is going to explode. It is going to be a long week. Let’s look at the cowslips some more.
Torch Lake Views 
La Mirada Bob
April 30, 2010
Amore sends her sympathy and DOD says “Hmmph!”
Gerry
May 1, 2010
Amore will probably refuse to speak to me next time I visit.
Fee
May 1, 2010
Poor Cowboy – I’m sure he’ll soon forgive and forget, though. Poor you, bearing the guilt of accidentally hurting one you love.
I still shudder to remember the incident when the rabbit wriggled as I clipped his claws …. he was fine in minutes, I felt bad for days. Put me down for some flying monkeys, as well.
Gerry
May 1, 2010
Fee, you have a way of making me feel much better.
Reggie
May 1, 2010
Isn’t it extraordinary how a trip to the mailbox (which sounds so innocuous, doesn’t it?) could result in such emotional upheaval – and a traumatic visit to the vet to boot?
Oh dear, Gerry, I’m sure the Cowboy knows you didn’t mean to slice off his knee, no matter how mad you were at the time of cropping his hair, so don’t you worry. Miss Sadie seems to have quite a strong protective streak, but even she will forgive you after she’s witnessed you suffering through a day of hayfever. 🙂
Those flowers are simply gorgeous – I *love* the dramatic colour combination of the yellow flower against the green and the blue!
Big hugs to all of you.
Gerry
May 1, 2010
Um, yes, Miss Sadie feels that abusing the Cowboy is her job, and very good at it she is, too. Thank you for the hugs. The blue was an accident, but as it was practically the only good thing that happened all day, I decided it was OK to use it.
Wendi
May 1, 2010
Please give my best wishes for a speedy recovery to Cowboy (from Harley and Lizzi too). And you should not feel too guilty. Cowboy is not totally inocent in his ways. Miss Sadie knows this too.
Gerry
May 1, 2010
Oh-ho! My laugh for the day. I have, in fact, observed that the Cowboy can be, let us say . . . disingenuous. I must admit that in this instance the fault was entirely mine. He was being a very good dog and not moving an inch. Of course, had he not rolled in three different kinds of filth . . . yes. Not totally innocent at all. Thank you.
giiid
May 1, 2010
Gerry, something is telling me that you might be a bit too busy, maybe thinking of too many things at the same time?
I have enjoyed reading your recent posts a lot, though still wondering how you manage to find time to read and write about all these interesting subjects so quickly?…
I recomend a quiet week-end with books, papers and delicious treats to you and your loyale friends.
Was it an accident with the blue color? The photo is perfect! I think the splinter in your foot disrupted you, and let your artistic sense have a ball without surveillance. I am looking forward to more accidental art from you,- without any splinter or similar objects of course.
Gerry
May 1, 2010
Birgitte, you have great insight. I am definitely doing too many things at once. I intend to remedy that in the near future. I will then do only three things, but those compulsively. (The compulsive part is how I manage to write a lot. It isn’t really quick, though, I just don’t sleep enough.)
A quiet weekend sounds perfectly heavenly.
The accident with the blue color occurred in “post-processing” – which in my case means using my Windows utility to crop things. On a whim, I pressed “Auto Correct” which I usually dislike as it does not play nicely with my particular photos. In this instance, it produced that vivid blue. I was grateful for the pleasant surprise, and left it in. Someday I may invest in some photo software, although I fear it. I already have a lot of absorbing toys . . .
Kathy
May 1, 2010
Dear Gerry…ohmygoodness, what a day! So sorry to hear about everything and hope the pooch is speaking to you soon.
On another note, I LOVE the big photos. I have decided that I really only look at photographs when they’re big. When they’re small, it’s back to being visually challenged…
Gerry
May 1, 2010
Miss Sadie has decided that I’ve been punished enough, and the Cowboy forgave me right away, so things are going pretty well.
What to do with the photos is always a challenge. I have many readers who must use slow dialup, and I don’t want them to get discouraged and go away. Sometimes I think I should limit myself to just one photo and let it go at that. Anyway, these appear large but are condensed images. Still a pain to load on dialup but not as bad as if I posted them in full resolution.
uphilldowndale
May 1, 2010
Sympathy to you all in your upset.
It has reminded me of two things, 1, sort out some insurance for Spud the dog. 2, to be more mindful when cutting Mt Uhdd’s hair (he would never be as forgiving as Cowboy.)
Gerry
May 1, 2010
I am awed that you cut Mr. Uhdd’s hair. I suspect it is not full of suspicious gunky stuff and burrs and leaves. On the other hand, he’s probably more particular about Styling than the Cowboy is.
Anna Surface
May 1, 2010
Oh dear, poor Cowboy and you too! I’m glad Cowboy is stitched and on the mend. Gerry, I surely can understand your upset; however, you aren’t an evil person. Goodness! When there is an accident with one of our beloved fur friends, it is so hard, I know. Those are such sweet photos of Cowboy and Miss Sadie.
Such pretty cowslips!
Gerry
May 1, 2010
Thank you, Anna, I rather like the cowslips myself.
I am astonished that the photo of Miss Sadie seems sweet. To me it looks like the soul-piercing stare of a very angry terrier. But perhaps I project. Yes, I’m sure I do.
P.j. grath
May 1, 2010
If the Cowboy hasn’t forgiven you, it’s because he never blamed you in the first place. He knew it was an accident! How do they know? Mysterious, but they seem to. Miss Sadie? She takes in a lot, doesn’t she? But I cannot believe she blamed you, either. The disturbance in routine (temporary absence of Cowboy) was probably a bigger deal to her.
Do I sound too sensible? Would I not be stricken, too, at hurting Sarah? Of course! We would be monsters if we didn’t have these feelings.
Now, let me say something I believe is true that most of us hesitate to say: this can be a difficult time of year. We have survived winter (I know, I went to Florida, but it was cold, and we had no money!), one way or the other, but we’re down to seeds and stems. There are still only 24 hours in a day but 10 times as many things clamoring to be done as there were a month ago. Even the demand to glory in the marsh marigolds has to climb uphill over pressing financial concerns, time constraints, too much to do and flagging energy. I mean, not to make all this worse–not my aim!–but please know that you are not alone! Others of us are struggling, too. Take a deep breath. Give yourself at least an hour off. Yes, you can find the time, Gerry. Your dogs think you deserve it, too. You already have the heart, the brain, courage–and you’re home!
Gerry
May 1, 2010
We should write a book called Seeds and Stems. It would not be a best-seller, as all the people who would really enjoy reading it would most likely borrow it from the library, but we would have a grand time doing it.
I’ve been thinking that every time I sit down and visit my favorite blogs or post something on Torch Lake Views that it’s a mini-vacation, but you’re right. A real mini-vacation would be an hour when I did nothing at all except maybe sit in the sun and pet a dog. OK, pet two dogs. I have two hands, I can do that.
Cindy Lou
May 2, 2010
I know exactly how you feel, Gerry – my son and I cut Jack’s (our BIG black lab/mix) toenails once and cut to the quick. Poor guys bled for days and our guilt increased with every drop! He, too, was quick to forgive but couldn’t quite get used to the sock and tape that was wound around his poor foot. Take care, dear – and do get yourself some down time if you can.
PS – Cowslips? I always call them marsh marigolds and I saw my first lovely yellow bloom yesterday. Always wondered what a cowslip was – love the name of it!
Gerry
May 2, 2010
Yes, cowslips are properly called marsh marigolds. I just love ’em. They grew in the ditches near Gram and Grampa’s farm in Wisconsin, and I would reach a chubby fist out to pick them, Gram holding tightly to my other hand so I wouldn’t drown. It’s good to have a grandmother holding your other hand. Sometimes I think I could use that even now.
Great big ol’ black labs are the greatest dogs in the world, and very forgiving of human foibles.
Helmy
May 3, 2010
Gerry, Since Kenny took his dog back I have been spared such adventures.
Gerry
May 3, 2010
I am glad that Kenny and his dog are reunited. Anyone who wants to take away Miss Sadie or the Cowboy had best be prepared for a struggle of the worst kind.
Preston
May 5, 2010
Dogs teach us unconditional love. No matter what, they love us. They have such a short time to teach us this wonderful thing. You made a mistake, Cowboy doesn’t care… he just loves you.
Gerry
May 5, 2010
It’s true, everything you say is true. Of course, part of the reason that the Cowboy is so forgiving is that he has a great deal of experience needing forgiveness himself. In fact, as I write this he is consigned to the dog room in disgrace. He tolerates this well, as there are a soft bed, a pile of toys, and a cozy baseboard heater in the dog room. It’s sort of like sending a teenager to his room where there is a TV, a computer with a broadband connection, and one of those game machines that are such mysteries to me.
It has occurred to me that flying monkeys might be a good deal more trouble than a spaniel.