CHURNING, CHURNING: Trying, and mostly failing, to see the light from within my own personal dark tunnel

Last Monday, thanks to a dear neighbor, puppy Scampi and I went to a vet, one of the rare ones in Bloomington Indiana that takes drop-in appointments. This vet, a relatively young woman who grew up in nearby Brown County, and who is also a star athlete, has had her own practice at this location only three months. Driving over to Pitties and Pals, we get close, but then see that the drive way to it is blocked by road construction — which led to us going round and round, up one street and down the other, in the midst of road construction, with the vet office always in view, but in the distance. Then, finally, we decided to just take a chance by turning left, to go the wrong way up the tiny one-way road that actually got us to the office. Frankly, I was surprised other pet owners had also found it, and knew they had gone through the same confusing morass to finally arrive at our common destination.

Does this circulating round and round, indeed churning experience feel familiar to you? Are you too, inside a ghastly, seemingly endless, maelstrom that will, if astrology offers a clue, finally begin to clear, at least partly, by Friday, November 13 into 14th,, when first Mercury in Scorpio, then Venus in Libra, both turn to go direct. That’s two out of seven retrograde planets . . . The next one to turn will be Saturn, on December 10, but: two days later Jupiter will turn,  to go retrograde! So we’re nowhere near “out of the woods.”

Well, of course, we knew that. We don’t need astrology to tell us what we already know. But, at least for some of us who speak this ancient symbolic language, the correlations between planetary motions (as seen from Earth) and personal, political, cultural phenomena feels utterly uncanny, and makes at least one such as myself, breathe a little easier, sensing I’m actually “in tune” with the universe.

 

Meanwhile, what’s going on during this strange churning period for me seems to be coming mainly via my relationship with my dear Scampi. And on my early morning walk today, without Scampi, I finally begin to clarify, four days prior to the Mercury/Venus turning points, the dilemma I seem to have been facing, namely, should I really have a dog at this age?

And further: Should I have this small dog who is so high energy and demanding?

The issue began in earnest months ago, when I noticed the flea problem inside was worse than usual. So major vacuuming 2x weekly, plus flea traps in every room, not to mention combing through his fur daily, and various remedies for him, which BTW, have yet to really work.

Since freezing overnight temps won’t really arrive until likely December, it looks like the flea problem will continue until then. I know that. I’ve set my jaw for that.

 

However, the flea problem is nuttin’ compared to a more profound problem, which is that I am now beginning to realize that I deliberately made myself NOT pay attention to the fact that Scampi, increasingly, for probably four or five months now, has been favoring his left hind leg, walking and running mostly on only three feet. He’s very good at it! No big deal, it appeared.

Assuming it would get better eventually, whatever it was, if I feed him well, etc., I continued our four-mile morning walks, until about two weeks ago, when he started to telepathically let me know that this left hind leg is very definitely not okay, and that it hurt.

So I cut out the four-mile walks with him; just did them solo, taking him for up to six short walks so he could pee at least poop twice daily.

Shortly after that, his telepathic communication got stronger, more urgent.

No longer able to subconsciously deny, or deny at at any level, what was happening (Mercury in Scorpio), I told a dear neighbor about it, and that I needed to address the issue, whatever it was, by seeing a vet. Vets with openings for new patients, not to mention urgent care vets are hard to find around here, but I’d have to do it! Together, she and found the perfect place, Pitties and Pets, see above. Already has great reviews, even though the office opened only three months ago. I will write up a review, as soon as my life slows down enough to do so.

She and I spent the better part of that afternoon at this vet office, first waiting for over an hour in one of their exam rooms (an emergency cat accident had suddenly taken precedence; we could hear the cat screaming in pain), and then spending another hour with Dr. Graber, who was born and raised in nearby Brown County, and has only been a licensed vet for three years, though she’s worked in vet offices for many more years. Her new office is independent, a rarity in these times, when “systems” of all kinds are swallowing private practitioners whole, both medical and otherwise.

Her diagnosis, for which she didn’t even need an X-ray, just a physical exam to assess his overall health including that left hind leg: Cranial cruciate ligament (CCL) injury. By this time, it’s likely torn, given that he’s continued running and jumping both up and down onto the couch, sailing sailing eight feet each time off the back porch to greet neighboring dogs behind a fence in their three-or-four times intense daily bark fests . . .

Thus her recommendation, if we didn’t want to opt for surgery (at least $4000) — and, she explained, if you didd chose surgery, you’d still have to do the protocol she recommends afterwards: a protocol which, BTW, is utterly repugnant to 16-pound Scampi’s volatile, excitable, curious, adventurous nature. To wit:

Keep him from jumping, whether it’s to greet somebody excitedly or jumping up and off the couch, or sailing eight feet off the back porch.

Very short walks, two or three times a day.

Otherwise, keep him as quiet and confined as possible, preferably in a crate.

For at least two weeks.

Total healing time, if the injury does heal, six to eight weeks.

Plus, during these first two weeks he will receive gabapentin 2x daily (to both numb the pain and calm him down.) Hopefully, by the time two weeks are over, he’ll have figured out that his life has actually changed.

 

So Scampi is in his crate sometimes, and certainly when I’m gone. When I’m home, and doing my writing at the kitchen table instead of my study so he can see me, he’s roped so he can’t go very far, and certainly not hop onto the couch. Right now he’s asleep on the rug of the floor.

The condition, if it heals, will take 6 to 8 weeks. A neighbor with small dogs, one of which also  endured this condition, says it will likely heal. Several people recommended that I get steps to my bed and maybe to the couch too.

So 6 to 8 weeks of this new regime . . .

I feel like I’m the one in a crate! I’m the one who’s caged! And it’s remarkable, how what is recommended goes exactly contrary to his intensely curious, excitable nature.

 

Hmmm . . . thinking of getting rid of the couch, which backs up to the front window, from which he’s so used to barking at passing dogs while standing upright.

(His bark , BTW, is a an excited shriek! which automatically triggers my nervous system.  In fact, I almost didn’t keep him in the first place, two years ago (he’s now seven years old), because of his schnoodle shriek. But then I figured:  I’m in my Gemini Uranus Return (84 years); eruptive energies are bound to continuously trigger my nervous system for this entire time; better to choose to suffer this via my dear little dog than endure something totally out of left field.

Plus now:  I’ve got to make sure I don’t trip on the rope if he’s tied onto it . . . Remember, Ann, to fall is forbidden!

I drag his crate back and forth to and from living room to my bedroom when I go to bed at night. My bed is very high; he’s used to sailing off it, too; a big no-no now, and likely forever.

And that’s only half of it. Both the fleas (still a problem) and the injury require intense detailed care!

Of course, this homebound situation drives me utterly crazy. I’m a triple Sagittarian, after all, with personal freedom an absolute requirement as long as I’m on this planet. And for me, since my Moon is in Taurus, luckily I’m also very accustomed to the idea of taking good care of my body; with two hours daily of “physical culture,” including at least 3-mile walks, yoga, taichi, chikung daily — for decades; in fact the long walks began when I was a teenager. I needed something, anything, to direct my over-the-top nervous energy; to tame it, you might say.

And guess what? Scampi mirrors me; he is also very high nervous energy, accustomed to massive physical activity, including, for him, all manner of high jumping. I’ve long sensed that the problems with him would come from injuries to his legs, since they are long and delicate; every time he sailed off my bed, especially, I would wince, sensing what was to come.

So here we are. And the problem has been building up for months. And only in the last two weeks have I actually begun the process of admitting this deep problem with Scampi to myself (Mercury Rx, in Scorpio, to turn SD on Friday, November 13). Meanwhile, as for Venus in Libra also turning to go SD not even 24 hours after, I’ve been wrestling mightily with my value system. Should I “get rid of Scampi?” Am I too old to care for this dog — or any dog? Then he looks at me with those bright, sharp, extremely intelligent eyes, and I know he knows what I’m thinking, and I cringe.

Nevertheless:

Only in the past 24 hours have I begun to realize that no, I do NOT want to “get rid of Scampi.” That the value (Venus) in our relationship (now in its own sign, Libra) needs to be front and center.

To put it bluntly. I take good care of myself, both mind and body, assuring both freedom and internal security. I am beginning to admit (Mercury in Scorpio) that I must to do the same with and for Scampi, since he is in my life (Venus in Libra).

Duh!

His main problem is that I have never, ever, asked him to change his wild behavior to meet my needs, or even, it turns out, to correct the course he’d been on so that he can meet his own needs without injury. Given that he’s an extremely intelligent and emotionally responsive being, I am beginning to recognize that we will see our way through this seeming impasse.

So yeah, here we are. I’m noticing churning conditions in my own living situation as a  fractal of the whole:  personal, household, neighborhood, town, region, state, nation, etc. etc. etc. We’re all related, folks, whether we like it or not. Might as well come to terms with this moment’s all-too bitter pill as it seems life itself backs up over and over again to go over the same damn thing without relief.

Oh, and whatever I am going through, to gain instant perspective, all I have to do is remember what my nerve-damaged, paralyzed son Colin Cudmore is going through, and has been for over three years. Plus: Colin has not only learned how to live with multiple disabilities including 24×7 nerve pain of sometimes three different kinds, at times increased by multiple mishaps by his caregivers all along that have made his situation undeniably worse —  he’s laughing more and more, utterly present and alive, greeting everybody he passes by when rolling in his chair down the B-Line to Kroger and back.

See my near-daily posts on Colin’s endless looping journey here:

Colin Cudmore Healing, caringbridge.org.