The Olbermensch weighs in

Let California Ring, part two:

In honor of IT and her Best Beloved:

Let California Ring, part one:

in honor of IT and her Sweetie-Boo:

We say goodbye to Grendel

I phoned up the vet this morning to find out how Grendel was. The Shabazz-man said that he would never walk again and that his condition would continue to deteriorate. I asked him if Grendel was in pain, and he said he didn't think so. I asked him, "If Grendel were your dog, what would you do?" He said, without hestitation, "I would let him go. Now."

So about an hour ago Liam and I drove over together to the Vet Clinic. Grendel was happy to see us but could not get up. He was in the bottom cage, lying on his favorite green shaggy blanket. We sat on the floor and petted him and told him how much we loved him and how happy we were that he shared his life with us. Then we told him we were taking him home. We each gave him a treat and then the Shabazz-man (His name is actually Gary Shahbazian and he is a wonderful vet.) came and gave him the shot. It was very peaceful.

Thnaks to all who said a prayer for this little dog. Your prayers have been answered. Grendel is home.

Pray for a dog

Yesterday Grendel took an alarming turn for the worst. Where as before only his right front paw was unstable, yesterday he was very shaky on all four legs and his right front paw was totally non-functional. He seemed quite unsettled. Last night I stayed awake with Grendel until he finally went to sleep. I took him into the vet today.

The Shabazz-man was not very comforting. He said it was not arthritis. He said that based on the configuration of the paw and the stiffness of the limb it appeared to be one of two things: an advanced tumor of the spine or some sort of degenerative spine disease. He was alarmed at the progression (we had taken Grendel in three weeks ago for his annual and there was no signficant problem besides a stiffness in the legs and the loss of a few front teeth)

Sp Grendel is spending the night at the Shabazz-man's and he will have X-rays and other diagnostics. If you are inclined to pray for a dog, pray that he remains pain-free. Pray that we have the strength to do what is needful. If you have a dog, give him love. Kiss him and tell him you love him. As Grendel would say, Do It Now!

I will keep you posted.

Phoebe crosses the Rainbow Bridge

When we came home from vacation we noticed that Phoebe seemed to have lost some weight. We figured it was probably because the Pig (an aptly named cat) had taken advantage of our absence and crowded his way into Phoebe's food bowl. The house-sitter didn't notice anything wrong with her, so we started feeding her more often and by herself.

She didn't gain any weight and seemed to be getting weaker so I took her to our vet on Thursday (the Shabazz-man, as Grendel calls him) and he couldn't find anything visibly wrong; he recommended a blood test.

I called him up yesterday to get the results and he said that all her counts were very low and to bring her in for an X-ray. So I did, and when they weighed her they found she had lost another quarter of a pound since Thursday. Not good.

I could tell that the Shabazz-man was hoping he's see something obvious in the X-rays, but there was nothing. He decided to give her an antibiotic shot and send her home with more antibiotic and steroid combined, as well as special food, but over the course of the conversation I could tell he was becoming more and more certain that the prognosis was pretty bleak. I asked if there was any specific danger sign to look for, as we did not want her to suffer. He said no, but then said it would be a matter of weeks, not months. It was probably leukemia or bone cancer by how swiftly it progressed.

I took her home and she ate a third of the can of cat food. That seemed a good sign. She rested on her blanket on the floor. Before I went to bed I lay down next to her and told her how much we loved her.

In the morning it was clear that she was much weaker. That was that, there's no way we were going to let her suffer, so Liam called up the Shabazz-man and was able to bring her right in. I had to go to school to meet with a student. I hated not being able to go with them, but I said goodbye to Phoebe and we loaded her into Liam's car. We were both heartbroken.

Liam came into school and said that all went as well as one could expect--she left peacefully and painlessly. The vet agreed it was "an acceptable time" for Phoebe to go.

She was a sweet cat, a gentle cat, who never made any trouble. She loved being brushed. We called her "FooFoo," FooFighter" and "Fluffy." She came into our lives suddenly, from a student of ours, D., forced to give up all her cats after a terrible tragedy. She left us too soon.

Mass on the Beach!

It's time again for Holy Family's Mass on the Beach. We are off bright and early for the coast, to escape the summer heat. We have two full buses this year. I'll be bringing my camera (but not my computer) to record the festivities.

(Grendel is at Doggie Day Care)

Don't forget the sunscreen!

This week at The Church of the Forced Antithesis

Every week when Liam and I drive to church we pass by what has come to be known by us as The Church of the Forced Antithesis. This refers to their reader board which displays a message which (one can only assume) is designed to lure people into the church. The choices are (to us, in any event) rather bizarre, tending to the fire and brimstone, wrathful God, genre. (Why would that attract people????)

In the past, I have been tempted to list these gems on the blog, but have resisted. But this week I can no longer keep silent; the message reads:

"If evolution were true, mothers would have three arms"

Where do I start? Perhaps from the denial of evolution as an accepted theory by all reasonable, educated, people?

Or the grave misunderstanding of the nature of evolution? Species do not wish to evolve in a certain way...

Or perhaps from the complete misunderstanding of what a scientific theory is, to begin with??

Or from the semiotic: what is meant by "true", anyway???

Good Grief. This is why Fresno is a byword for the unthinking conservative.

We are back

We are back from France.

We spent over three weeks helping our friends renovate their 17th century farmhouse and three lovely days in Paris.

It was wonderful. The best thing about our job is that we can travel in the summer. (Of course the flip side of not being gainfully employed for three months of the year is not getting paid for three months out of the year, but we are frugal types and can get by...)

We seriously considered ways in which we could stay in France forever (I'd rather be an ex-pat in Ireland, but it seems even more difficult.) It helps to learn the French for "I did not vote for him; I think he is an idiot." If you have a good scheme for earning an income over the Internet, please let me know.

Coming back to Holy Family after so long away (I'd only been back for one Sunday between Vietnam and France) made me realize how much my little church is changing...it's not so much the physical changes (although there are plenty of those: the rector's office is being renovated, the plaza re-landscaped, new benches in the Chapel of St. Francis and St. Clair, a splendid new set of paraments for the altar) but the growth: seeing the Rev. Michelle take her place on a regular basis (a woman priest!! Who would ever have thought it possible in this Diocese!),
We had 49 people at the 8 o-clock on a summer's day, several of them new faces. (And of course Norm joked about giving us a newcomer's packet, having been away so long.)

And now we are off again, this time only for a few days, to visit my sister Sláine and my brother Mickey in Phoenix.

After the Garden

Father Jake has closed up shop.

Neil Young said,

Where will people go?

After the garden is gone
What will people know?

After the garden....




Thank you, Father Jake.

Go meadai Dia thu!

We have a winner!

Brian R. wins a bottle of gravy from Grendel for guessing that Aghaveagh is in the Loire Valley, France.

Here is the latest castle pic:


I think I have gained five pounds on Brie and pate, not to mention red wine. My liver is groaning audibly...

The dollar is so low now that if it weren't for the friends we are mooching off of (staying in their 17th-century farmhouse and helping them with renovations) there would be no way to afford it on professorial stipendage...

Where in the World is Aghaveagh? Another hint.

OK, Fran and Padre Mickey, guess! (Other clues will come. If by chance another person happens upon this blog, you can guess too!)

Kidanpped by Pirates!!!

Well, not really.

But I did fall behind in blogging about Vietnam, so I have to catch up.

But guess where I am now?? Not Vietnam, and not the USA.

Here is a hint:



And I have not had Internet or phone access for almost two weeks, so I have been out of the loop in American news. Anything I should know??

And poor Grendel may never get to blog again, because I have the computer...

But he has a wonderful graduate student staying with him, who reports that he has almost become a Real Dog!! (and they hang out together at the Starbucks in the Tower District)

Day Twelve in Vietnam: May 24

24 May,
Hue
AM: Arrival Hue station at 8am.
Transfer to hotel.
The rest of morning will be visit to Imperial Citadel.
PM: Boat trip along Perfume river to visit Ming Mang mausoleum and Thien Mu pagoda and Dong Ba market.

The train to Hue is a dive. Ken says this is much closer to how the Vietnamese really travel; I say "no thank you." It's not one single thing: herky-jerky motion of the train, the non-functioning AC, the blaring loudspeaker (a form of torture?) or the grimly grimy berths and dubious linens or the sullen, imperious staff...but put this all together with the toilet which consists of a hole in the floor of the train, and you have a recipe for true grodiness.

We find that there is a (relatively much nicer) toilet with an actual seat in it in the car next door, and I go to investigate. As I am washing my hands, I hear a loud grating noise. Hmm.... I try the door. It won't open. I try again...it is locked. I am trapped in the loo. I try knocking on the door, calling out, to no avail. For the next ten minutes I alternate between tapping out an SOS with my chapstick on the metal door and calling out, "Help! I am trapped in the the toilet!!!" but the noise from the train prevents me from being heard. It is really hot and the sweat pours from my face. Surely one of my party must figure out I am missing... or perhaps they will find my body days from now, a victim of heat exhaustion, or terminal grodiness. "If only she had not drunk the water!" Tragedy in the Loo: film at eleven. The innate humor of the situation keeps me from despair....after all, someone has to come by...

another five minutes pass and I go for the big guns, banging against the door with my foot. Finally the door opens and an enraged train official is on the other side, yelling at me angrily in Vietnamese. I yell back: "The door was locked!" He is not mollified. I give up and trek back to my cabin to tell the sorry tale. I use the hole in the floor for the rest for the trip, which is not much better.

And then, finally, when we reach our clean, luxurious hotel in Hue, it is like Heaven. Absolute heaven.

Day Eleven in Vietnam: May 23

23 May,
Ha Long Hanoi/ Hue Road/ Train HA LONG BAY
morning swim.
Back to Ha Noi.
19:00: Overnight on train to Hue.

In the morning after a swim, a cup of coffee and a roll we divided up into "away teams" to explore a lagoon accessible only at low tide, through a natural entryway carved out of the rock (I'll try to load a picture later). It was so peaceful! Then, brunch.

All too soon it was time to return to the mainland. Our taste of how the other half lives was marvelous. but nonetheless moments of uneasiness intruded into our luxury: the ship was often approached by small sampans rowed by local women selling cold drinks, snacks, and souvenirs. "Hello!" they called, "You want to buy something?" I admired their industriousness at the same time as I felt the gap between affluent Westerner and impoverished native emphasized. I felt guilty, as I had so many times while traveling here. Sure, my tourism dollars are helping the economy, but once again I felt the huge discrepancy between our lives. I hope I never complain about my modest professor's salary again--it could support an entire village here.

Ha Long Bay. Beautiful.