Perspective

Josh and I had a little chat this week about the state of the union of the Dorminy Home. Josh reminded us life is a lot right now, but we are on the same team and will eventually be on the other side of these things—like Rolo’s surgery recovery and my absolutely whacked hormones and sleepless nights. I’ll spare you the details, but it’s been a rough summer. We’re in what I often call, “a rough patch.” I know we will come out of it eventually, though I’ve been given no timetable except that “in this world you will have trouble.”

So as I was sitting outside staring blankly into space and wondering why insomnia is my close companion and asking God how in the world I am supposed to make it through this day, I saw in the distance a leaf floating down to the ground. One lone leaf. One little bit of perspective. It isn’t fall yet. The temperatures are still miserably hot. But fall is coming. The seasons always change.

I was reminded that while we will indeed have trouble, I can take heart because Jesus has overcome the world. Yes it’s a rough patch, but yes God is with us and it won’t be this way forever. It won’t.

Maybe you needed this reminder too?

Rolo!

Poor, poor Rolo! Poor me, too. She has had a ROUGH month or more. It started with not eating. Then upset stomach. Then her fourth heat cycle.

Fourth heat cycle for a dog who is spayed. Things weren’t adding up. All tests came back inconclusive on ovarian remnant. But all signs in real life pointed to exactly that—some of her ovaries were left behind during the spay and they decided to wake up and drive us all crazy (at the exact time my hormones are also driving us all crazy—it’s a fun time in the Dorminy home, let me tell you).

FINALLY, we got her scheduled for surgery to remove any left behind ovaries. The doctor said it all went well, and he found the ovaries and removed the ovarian stump that was starting to be infected.

We picked her up yesterday evening, and she mostly rested in her bed and ate a tiny bit of chicken. Then, we set up a gate and put her bed behind the gate in my room thinking this would keep her near us but not on a bed she could jump off. Except Rolo wasn’t close enough to me evidently, so she whined and whined and whined and tried moving around clanking the cone into the gate. It was pitiful and miserable all at once. So I scooped her up and took her out to pee. Then, I settled her on the couch and settled myself beside her. We finally got a few hours of sleep.

So today is a new day. Hoping and praying Rolo adjusts to the cone and to all the medicine she’s having to take. Such an ordeal for something I thought was already taken care of.

Reminiscent of the newborn stage of life, which I feel like we had pretty much back to back—constant attention to every noise, every bathroom break, every bit of food eaten, every ounce of water drank, every move, every snooze.

I’m exhausted, but this too shall pass.

And I’m hopeful I’ll have my sweet, calm, well-behaved dog back in no time. 🐕‍🦺🐾🦴