Happy Possums

I'm pleased to report that Maggie is back up to her usual Diva self this morning. It's a big relief to all concerned.

I realized last night, that the reason her reaction seemed so unusual to me had nothing to do with HER reaction to the anesthesia, but MY reaction to watching the recovery process.

In the U.S., and in the UK as well from what I've been told, we would never have seen Maggie from the moment she was taken back for surgery until 5 or 6 hours later, when I would have been brought a dog who was fully, or mostly, recovered from the anesthesia.

Here, I first held her while the vet gave her the anesthesia and until she zonked out. Then, I went out in the waiting room and sat there while she had the surgery, going back as soon as they were done and sitting with her until she started to wake up, when we were then able to take her home.

That part is all hidden behind the curtain in a typical, urban veterinary practice in the U.S., so you never really get to see how your dog reacts until the worst is over. It means we are relatively ignorant about the entire procedure, which also means we have no idea what is normal and what isn't.

Most of my Anglo-Saxon friends who are suddenly introduced to this different French system of veterinary surgery react in the same confused way that JM and I did yesterday. We think our dog (or cat) is not recovering, when, in fact, they are reacting quite normally to the whole process.

The fatal flaw in the plan, however, is the uninformed pet owner. Because we don't know what is normal and what isn't, we're not really prepared to deal with the recovery process and can either under react or over react, possibly not taking our pet back to the vet when something really is wrong, because we don't recognize it as a problem.

I feel lucky that Maggie is a healthy dog who doesn't seem to have any problems with anesthesia, even though she is getting up there in years. I do think that watching her recovery yesterday makes me even more wary than I was before about subjecting her to any unnecessary medical procedures.

I don't know which method is better, to be honest. In the U.S./UK system, it's true that there may be closer monitoring of post op vital signs. On the other hand, your pet is subjected to a strange and stressful atmosphere for a far longer time, which may make the recovery process more difficult. Therefore, I would have to say that for the pet owner who can afford to spend the entire day watching over their newly operated on pet, the at-home care system does win out for me.

Ciao for now.

Randy

Worried in the Possum Kingdom

One day last week, Maggie started to limp a bit when I was walking her. Now, the weather had turned cold very suddenly, and at first I thought it was her back acting up a bit. However, I realized soon enough that it was something else.

When I looked closely at her left hind foot, I saw that she had a large, red swelling on one of her pads. It looked like something that needed to go to the Vet, so off we went to our wonderful vet, Dr. Un-Ren in Lavelanet. He thought it was a cyst and put some ointment of some kind on it, bandaged it up and gave her a shot of cortisone. We were told to bring her back yesterday.

Although the cortisone did take some of the swelling down, unfortunately the "thing" was still there, so he decided to remove it. I didn't want him to give her anesthesia yesterday, because she had eaten breakfast (the cortisone always makes her ravenous; I hate the stuff), so we decided to bring her back this morning after a night of no food.

He gave her a shot of something that knocked her out but didn't seem to send her completely unconscious; it kind of reminds of when they give you a demerol-versed cocktail for small human surgical procedures.

The "thing" does not appear to be cancer, thank goodness (been there, done that, have the t-shirt) and was some type of superficial skin growth.

Surgery seems to be much more casual here than I'm used to; in that you can actually see them performing surgery in one consultation room while you're in the other. I suppose that's one of those differences between a big, fancy vet clinic in L.A. and being out in a rural community. Still, I know many people who credit Dr. Un-Ren with saving the lives of their pets and he really seems to know his stuff.

After her surgery, because the other Vet needed the surgery room, he simply picked her up and carried her to the second examining room where we all sat around and had a fascinating conversation about Dr. Un-Ren's family history in Cambodia and how he came to live in France, while the rest of his family is all over the world. Terrifying to hear about life under the Khmer Rouge from someone who lived it...

Finally, about 30 minutes or so after the surgery, Maggie started to move around a little and we got her out to the car to bring her home. She has been extremely unsteady on her feet ever since and I'm a bit shocked at how hard this whole thing seems to have hit her. I called the Vet's office and was reassured that this is normal, but it appears to me to be taking her longer to recover from this than from the major cancer surgeries that she had back in L.A.

I'm trying not to be a worry wort Pet-mom, but of course that's difficult. I am watching her like a hawk and hoping that a good night's sleep will see her back to her usual Diva self in the morning.

Ciao for now.

Randy

Before I forget

We've just updated the photos section of the website with pictures from our recent day trips in the Pyrenees and to Cadaques.

Ciao for now.

Randy

Second Anniversary

Yes, it was two years ago, post-election day 2004, when I turned to JM and told him that I thought the time was right for us to leave California and try to move to France. Granted, that decision was motivated by a deep sense of loss at the results of the election, but it was also from a sense that there had to be something more to life than what I was experiencing at that time in L.A.

The move was made with no regrets and no looking back. I feel no sense of loss (other than missing friends and family); certainly there is nothing I miss about Los Angeles itself.

We could have found ourselves in a place less suited to our personalities and lifestyle than the Possum Kingdom, so I do feel a profound sense of gratitude to whatever forces pushed us in this direction. As I look around our home and village, I realize that I am very lucky indeed that things turned out the way that they did.

Now, on this anniversary, I also feel a great sense of jubilation at the results of the mid-term elections. I did not want to let my hopes get too high: been there, done that. But I feel that in most cases, people put the good of the country and their fellow citizens ahead of other issues. Yes, we could do better on some of the propositions: what is it about homosexuals having the same rights as straight people that is so frightening? Still, taking back the House and being on the verge of taking back the Senate will perhaps give us a chance of stopping the rampaging Nutso Faction from further dragging the U.S. into a deepening swamp.

I still don't understand how Arnold won in California, and with such a majority. I really wish I believed it was because people thought he was doing a good job and not because they still believe they are voting for a kick-ass robot from the future...

Ciao for now

Randy

No Rain in Spain

Or in France for that matter!

Here in the Possum Kingdom we are in the midst of a glorious autumn. It's almost impossible to look anywhere and not be impressed by how beautiful the whole place is. I drove to Limoux today to run some errands, and the vineyards have all turned golden-red. The early morning sun was making a gentle mist rise above the vines and they were shining in the golden light. Really, it's enough to take your breath away.

As I mentioned, we went to Spain yesterday. I suppose for me, it's too much like looking at the countryside in Southern California. Lots of scrub, pines, stone, dry vegetation, etc. It just didn't do anything for me.

Also, there is just so much rampant construction everywhere that one just despairs to see so little of the countryside remaining. We went to Cadaques, which is a pretty town (didn't get to the Dali museum though) that is definitely NOT for the riffraff. There are some amazing haciendas on the hillside and you can understand why the beautiful people are drawn there. Still, it's just not my cup of tea.

We drove down on the back roads, as opposed to the freeway. The last time we were in the region on the French side, I was pretty sick with my stomach bug, so it was nice to see it when I didn't have 103 degree temperature. Put the whole place in a different perspective. We really loved driving through the Banyuls wine region, which was very wild and beautiful. In fact, without trying to sound chauvinistic, we really enjoyed the drive on the French side far more than on the Spanish side.

Interestingly, you can basically cross from France into Spain on the coast without anyone stopping you. There's an old customs outpost, but it appears to be totally abandoned.

This was not the case on the return trip, which we did do on the freeway. The Spanish and French customs agents have booths one right after the other and both of them appeared to be very interested in stopping cars. I suppose they're looking for drugs, as that seems to be the main European drug corridor. Clearly, JM, Maggie and I did not seem threatening as no one even gave us a second glance.

I suppose it's not fair to judge a place by a single afternoon day trip. And, of course, we haven't been to Barcelona yet, which I know lots of our friends adore, but I have to say that so far, I don't feel a burning desire to return to the Costa Brava. I think we've found paradise right here in the Possum Kingdom.

Ciao for now.

Randy

Quick hello

No time for a long post, as we're off to Spain for the day. (I still find that concept amusing)

I don't know if the news of the big blackout hit anywhere outside of France, but on Saturday night, we were happily playing tarot (not the fortune telling kind) with our friends Yves and Helene from next door, when we were suddenly plunged into darkness!

Luckily, years of living in earthquake country have taught me the benefit of keeping flashlights in every room in the house. I was able to grab one quickly so we didn't stumble over a major hazard in a blackout: black dog in a black house!

I went and found my handy-dandy Coleman camping lantern, which lit up the whole downstairs enough so that we could finish playing our round of cards. I guess there are times when being mildly obsessive can come in handy.

The main thing about the power outage, of course, is that you realize how much of what you do under normal circumstances is electricity dependent. Forget watching television or reading, but even the oil heating runs on an electric thermostat and the boiler needs electricity to turn itself on and off.

The outage only lasted about 45 minutes, so we didn't run any real risk of freezing, but I guess it points out the use of keeping a good stock of firewood in the cellar.

Ciao for now.

Randy