The Orange and Black

Flap Your Wings

Small

Herself speaks.

Over last weekend, Tiny Dog fell ill. Two emergency vet trips, differing diagnoses, and multiple medications later, she is on the mend. We saw the regular vet -- such a soft-spoken, smart, calm and wise man -- who explained why the emergency vets were a bit overreactive and what Tiny Dog needed to get better. And she is better. I am so relieved.

It's hard to explain how very distressing it is for me when the pets are ailing. It's much more upsetting than an ill person. (It's upsetting enough, in fact, that I could not even bear to write about it here until Tiny Dog was well on the mend.) 

Let us hope she continues to improve. I do love her, my Tiny Dog. 

May Rose

Hatching

This morning while out for a sniff-and-stroll for the Small Dogs, I spotted half of an eggshell on the sidewalk -- some wee little bird must have recently hatched out, leaving this remnant behind. Where was the nest for this bird? I could not see one.

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Five years ago today was the Unmooring. The grief of that event has attenuated over time, and it is now possible to reflect on it without undue sorrow. I am not sure yet that I can think of the Unmooring as an emergence into a new world, but perhaps I can think of recollections from the time before the Unmooring as forming a lovely, ephemeral eggshell in which I once grew.

Origins

Yesterday's Facebook Memories reminded us of my very beginning -- ten years ago. 

Imagine that. 

Hum

The hummingbirds are back!