My philosophy occasionally embraces the odd and unusual outlook on life. With that in mind, the following statement should not strike you as being bizarre.
You should look after your fingers when you are young.
Well, you should look after your fingers whatever age you may be, but particularly when you are young. No, I’m not talking about manicures and nail polish! Although a nice manicure is good at any time. I mean take care to prevent damage to your fingers.
Take me for example. I’ve got 10 fingers, just like most people. When I was in my teens and early 20s, I had one damaged when my dog accidentally bit through it. I broke another playing softball. I smashed another when I dropped an irrigation pipe on it while helping my uncle move the system. And I put a drill bit through another while working on my boogie van. Something you may recall if you heard my most recent speech at Toastmasters.
The damage to those fingers started coming back to haunt me early in adulthood. Now I’m 53 and I’m still paying the price for youthful indiscretions. When the temperature plummets to –20C (-4F) and I have to be outside shoveling snow – yet again – the tips of the most severely damaged fingers really feel the cold. By that I mean they practically freeze and become painful while the other fingers are still functioning. I’m assuming blood circulation problems to the extreme ends are to blame. And those problems originated through one of the scenarios outlined above.
So if you ever see me seeming to flip you the bird, chill out! It’s just a frozen fingercicle and not an insult.
Of buffets and bellies
On Saturday my mother-in-law, likely the most wonderful mother-in-law in the world, treated Lynda and I to lunch at a local Chinese restaurant that offers a pretty tasty buffet.
Mixing Chinese food with an ‘all-you-can-eat’ serving concept isn’t always a good thing for me. In fact, I will often fall victim to the ‘eyes-are-bigger-than-the-belly’ phenomenon. Too much food gets loaded on the plate because the visual senses are over-stimulated and chowing it all down becomes a major undertaking.
While taking a breather, I looked around the restaurant. Holy side of beef! Most of the people there were huge! And I don’t mean they were tall.
There were at least four guys there in their late 30s and up with ginormous bellies that sagged down over their belts. Each looked like he’d tip the scales at close to 300 lbs. Each had more food piled up on a single plate than the average person could squeeze onto a serving platter. The guys weren’t alone, but I won’t talk about the women for fear of being branded a sexist!
I don’t mention this to mock or ridicule anyone. For me, it was a moment of self-reflection.
I struggle with food. No, let me take that back. It’s not a struggle at all! I eat more than I should without any problem at all. I imagine there are all sorts of psychological reasons for that. There is an emptiness I am trying to fill. It’s how I deal with stress. That sort of thing.
Of course, it could simply be that I love the stimulation of my sense of taste!
However I wish to rationalize it, the truth is I need to drop about 20lbs. Seeing the outcome of uncontrolled or extremely poor eating habits demonstrated by the bellies at the buffet was like being slapped in the face with a pound of lard.
I can avoid the belt-buckle avalanche by committing to awareness dining. Watch what I take in and stop when full. Don’t let those demanding little taste buds push me around!
West Lethbridge going to the dogs
Our dog Max is about 10 years old now. We got him when he was about 18 months old. We were his third family and while it looked shaky at first, we became is permanent family.
One spring day about 10 months or so after we acquired Max, I had him out at the off-leash area in West Lethbridge’s Popson Park. This area is home to a few prairie rattlesnakes and despite the warning signs I’ve never been fortunate enough to see one there. Owners are warned to watch for them as they can pose a danger to pets.
There should have a been a warning about porcupines! That morning, while running along the river bank, Max was a ways ahead of me when he stopped and suddenly stuck his face into some bushes. He yelped and jumped back with a face full of quills. I rushed him back to the car and quickly drove home.
It was a Sunday. We were also very short of cash. And we didn’t have a regular vet at that point. We called three or four different vet clinics and explained the situation. When we noted that finances were a challenge, our calls for help were quickly shut down. It was beginning to look like someone would have to sit on Max and I’d need to use pliers to rip the quills from his face. Not a pleasant idea.
Then we made one last call. The vet understood. He took Max in, sedated him, removed all of quills and only charged us the costs without a profit for him, or for the fact that is was a Sunday emergency.
He has been our vet every since. When our cat, Digit, had to be put down, the clinic later sent us a card with his paw print and a tuft of his hair. Everyone there signed the card. Our relationship was sealed.
On Saturday I accidentally attended the grand opening of Park Pet Hospital at their new location in West Lethbridge, only a few blocks from where we live! I’d stopped by to make an appointment to have our cat, Maya, spayed. Much to my surprise there were treats and tours as Dr. Patrick Galloway and his staff were celebrating their grand opening.I hope you pet owners appreciate your vet as much as we do ours. If you don’t have a pet vet yet, I highly recommend you check out Park Pet Hospital. It’s a great bunch of people who really care about your animals friends.
Congratulations to doctors Galloway, Schluchter, Kremeniuk and McLean and all of the staff at Park Pet Hospital. Thanks for relocating to our neighbourhood.
RIP Ripley
Those of you who are Facebook Friends may have seen my photos there of three mice I acquired as pets more than a year ago. Sadly, I had to put of the sisters down early in the past week. Ripley, the brown mouse, lived in the same enclosure as her two sisters. They shared the same home, the same food and same access the wheel and climbing toys. But Ripley gained weight that Thelma and Louise have avoided. She really was a roly-poly little fur ball in the end. I found one morning lying in middle of the cage not moving. I actually thought she was dead. However, when I lifted her up, she shifted in my hand. Not quite dead, but obviously suffering, so I couldn't leave her like that. I humanely ended her suffering. So, RIP Ripley.
Photos: 1) Me shoveling snow last winter. This winter looks like it'll be the same! 2) Max posing at Nicolas Sheran Park this past spring. 3) Maya sleeping on the arm of the couch during the summer. 4) Ripley on my arm, Thelma and Louise in my hands shortly after they arrived a year ago.
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