As I sit here reading the FML this morning, I find my life in utter
chaos. So, I noticed, is the list. I try to be a man of routine and
organization (well, organized in my *mind* would more to the truth),
and chaos is not an easy thing to live with. But the key words here
are "live with." Indeed, I am alive. I have learned over the years
(and am still learning) that this fragile state is not as black and
white as some on this list seem to think.
Right now I am sitting here in a robe and nothing else trying to let
some poison ivy dry out. Poison ivy is a miserable plant, and right
about now I am wondering why the Boss created the stuff. Well, no
matter. Just a week or so more of itching and leaking - nothing that's
going to kill me. My blood sugar is a bit high this morning. Now *that*
will kill me, but it's nowhere near the annoyance of poison ivy, so
I'm going to concentrate on getting this urushiol oil off my skin.
It's ironic that I *got* this poison ivy while out on a hike trying
to get healthier. That'll teach me. So screw it. I am having Hershey's
Chocolate Carmel creamer (lots of it) in my instant coffee this
morning, along with two obligatory blue packs of neuro-toxins, all
while I spread Ivarest on my knee, arm, and backside. I will force
misery to at least taste good. Yes, I am the picture of chaos this
morning. Good luck to those of you who would try and color in my
picture using only black and white crayons. It is not possible to get
an accurate picture of anything with only two crayons. But that doesn't
stop some of you from trying.
Jackson, my older DEW boy, has adrenal disease. My vet opted not to do
surgery. We do Lupron instead. Surgery is as much of a crapshoot as any
other treatment, and since we have already lost two ferrets during
adrenal surgery we have decided to spare Jackson the pain and risk.
He is hairless in spots, and even with Lupron injections he is still
terribly itchy at times. He has taken to stopping, dropping, and
rolling at times to scratch himself. Margarite, an albino as well,
has mistaken this stopping, dropping, and rolling as an unwitting
invitation for battle, and attacks by latching on to his hairless neck.
She does not realize that he is just trying to scratch himself.
Jackson, under these misguided attacks, has learned to turn his SD&R
into a form of ferret martial artistry. I have noticed that he is quite
good at it, and at least once every morning I am witness to a blur of
white fur and pink noses. It's only when I notice poofed tails that I
stop the match. This morning Margarite was the one on top with the
perceived advantage, but then again she was also the one with the
poofed tail. What to do? I decided it was time to stop the match. I
grabbed her torso from behind and lifted her up, but Jackson's teeth
were clamped to her ear (that explained her poofed tail), and in my
effort to referee them I was unwittingly making it worse. I managed
to separate them and put Margarite on the bed so she could relax and
unpoof, but in less than a minute she was back on the floor with
Jackson in round two. I gave up and fired myself as referee. Later,
when I went to put them away, they were curled up together sleeping in
the box my wife leaves by the side of our bed. Well, wouldn't you know
it? I decided to leave them curled together and put them away later.
Today, I would let sleeping ferrets lie. Not so with the list...
As I sit here drinking my over-sugared, over-flavored coffee (I *think*
it's still coffee), reading the FML, and painting a second coat of
Ivarest on my knee, I start to have mixed emotions. Should I allow
Jackson and Margarite to spar to the point of poofing? Should I keep
them apart, or should I let them end up curled together? Should Jackson
undergo a risky surgery which might lengthen his life, knowing that
he might never wake from it? Or should he continue with the Lupron
and live out his life however it turns out, even if he only lives a
few more months? I have been pondering these kinds of decisions for
quite some time now, as have all of us, and none of them have ever
been as simple as "good or bad," or "right or wrong," or "black or
white." I make them, nevertheless, never really knowing what their
outcomes will be. I do the best I can. So be it. Life with my ferrets
has been both comical and tragic, and everything in between. But those
of you who have deemed yourself the "ferret police" only seem to own
two crayons -- black and white. Again, one cannot color anything
accurately with just two colors. And receiving a ticket from the
ferret police could not possibly make me scrutinize these difficult
decisions any more than I already have.
So enough already.
Roary
Not quite living in the middle of the road
Rio Rancho, NM
PS: Any of you who are tired of using the same two colors can get a big
box of ninety-six different crayons at Office Depot for $7.79 - black
and white included! But try using all the colors. You'll find that
using all the colors can be quite chaotic, but give it a go anyhow --
it's the only way to color.
[Posted in FML 6094]
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