Dinner at Noon; Another Memory

 I started off well this morning.  I woke up earlier than usual.  Did the usual feed-everybody-else-and-then-myself.  It was cool this morning (the weather has been unusually not hot) so I ate on the back deck while writing up ideas on the puppet project.

Then I got going - the usual clean litterboxes, tidy up kitchen.  Ran the vacuum around, cleaned the squirrel cage and the back deck (where the chickens live now) and changed out the water in the fish tank.  Washed the couch cover.  Took care of a few other things.

Then I was ready to grab a sandwich and head to the cottage to work on the puppet.

I didn't want to.  A storm was rolling in.  My energy had slumped.   What I *really* wanted to do was have a nice quiet dinner, with wine, and go to bed.  So I did.  At noon.  I made some pasta with leftover salmon, a handful of scallops from the freezer, sauteed zucchini in a rich cream sauce and poured the wine.  I ate slowly, enjoyed it, and then went to bed.

I woke up in a couple of hours, felt great, and then I was ready to go work on the puppet.

I can let my mind wander a bit while I wait for paint and glue to dry.  I've mentioned my friend Los before; his wife Ellen died about six months after Bob - 39 years old, pulmonary embolism.  Los's grief therapy is writing of their everyday lives together.  Each evening after work he does a stream-of-consciousness ramble on Facebook of something they did or somewhere they went or friends they gathered with, or what they ate.  Almost three years, and he hasn't missed a day yet. 

I don't do that, but sometimes memories come back to me.  Today I was remembering how sometimes we could just look at each other and communicate, no words needed.  There was that day at the vet - sitting, waiting to go in.  A woman came in with a small sick dog.  Suzie (the receptionist) told her that she was sorry, but the last time she came in her check had bounced, so the vets couldn't see her until she had paid it off with a credit card or cash.  The woman said she didn't have a credit or debit card, and would have to take the bus to her bank to get the money.  Could she leave the dog while she was doing that, so he didn't need to be dragged around sick?

It was a respiratory problem, so no (too much danger to other animals).  It was just sad.  She obviously didn't have much money or a car, and she just wanted to take care of her dog.  Suzie went to talk to the vet, and they agreed to see the dog, and had her go wait with it outside (standard protocol for animals with respiratory problems).

That was when we were called back.  We stood up, looked at each other, nodded, and I went with the vet and Bob lagged a moment to talk with Suzie.  He joined us; a few minutes later Suzie came in, handed him his card back, and gave him a quick hug.

With just a look and a nod, we had agreed to pay both her previous bill and that day's charge.  The woman never knew who did it.  And the only thing he said as we drove home was "I hope her little dog is all right."

I miss that sweet and caring man.