Saturday, August 31, 2024

September unofficially starts the holiday season. I feel the changes coming in my part-time jewelry-selling work. We are shipping out aging merchandise and preparing for incoming replacements. I’m eager to see the new stuff and hope for creative pieces. Realistically, highly innovative jewelry probably isn’t coming to our traditionally oriented department. I think that’s a mistake, and nobody cares what I think.

In reality, customers have been changing alongside the changing times. Their bodies often are adorned with tattoos, and they sport real or fake diamond ear studs. Most prefer one color of gold, yellow or silver, and few want rose gold. Customers can articulate, with specificity, the jewelry types they seek.

Traditions are changing. Many customers are looking for alternatives to traditional engagement and wedding rings. Women with big diamonds often want alternative rings with smaller stones to reduce the knocking around of their big diamonds.

(I’ve fallen for lab-created diamonds. They’re the “real thing” and slightly less expensive than mined diamonds. The lab-created are almost flawless, and their sparkles are incredibly bright.)

My vision is to introduce customers to some creative and nontraditional choices. Many might not choose creativity, but looking and discussing breaks up the monotony of traditional displays.

Dear Friends: Who’s asking? For sure, not the organization that employs me. Diana

Friday, August 30, 2024

My biggest thoughts are about my donkey Pimmy. Yesterday evening, I was excited to see her, on her own, beginning to eat her hay. She came home from the hospital four days ago after being diagnosed as a Type 2 diabetic with Cushing’s Disease. She has been demonstrating a lack of appetite, listlessness, and overall disinterest at home.

A body requires sugars, and average bodies distill sugars from foods. A diabetic body has unique needs. Pimmy was receiving helpful medications but not eating. My options were (1) returning her to the hospital for IV infusions (glucose) or (2) keeping her at home, hoping she eats and remains viable.

Option one is mega-expensive, and the second perhaps very disheartening. Last night, seeing Pimmy voluntarily eating her hay was sheer happiness.

Dear Friends: Maybe today will be more evidence of a shift toward wellness. Diana

Thursday, August 29, 2024

I awoke early today because my dog was becoming noisy, which she does often. Instead of rolling over and ignoring her, I got out of bed, surprised to feel alert, and decided that all the dogs could go outside for a few minutes. I welcomed that early hour as an opportunity to catch up on my reading. However, now I want to return to bed for a little nap.

This morning is crowded with commitments—perhaps my early energizers and the disturbers of my sleep. I will try to ease a time burden by rearranging a little. A conundrum for one wishing to do everything is making tough choices about what to push aside or eliminate entirely.

When it’s useful, I like to fall back on Scarlett’s old line, “I’ll think about it tomorrow.” Or, here’s another of her’s that’s good, “Oh, fiddle-dee-dee!” Thinking deeper, maybe I will start mulling over the idea of re-reading Gone With The Wind and gathering more of its satisfying avoidance lines.

I’ve avoided thinking about this morning’s obligations as long as possible. What’s happening is that Pimmy is eating too little—her veterinarian needs to know. I’m meeting a friend who will teach me something new. My dogs are due at their veterinarian for inoculations, and a local online order is ready for me to pick up. I cannot be “thinking about it tomorrow;” it’s decision time right now.

Dear Friends: First up, the unresolved problem of Pimmy’s reluctant appetite. Diana

Wednesday, August 28, 2024

That’s Pimmy vigorously rolling, her first activity on being released at home. For the next fifteen minutes, she wandered and rolled repeatedly and happily. Best of all, she eagerly ate the hay offered. Last night, I managed to medicate her with a syringe. She must have those meds twice daily and via syringe going forward.

Administering the meds will be a challenge. Pimmy will anticipate what’s coming and avoid me. To counter that, she’s now sporting a short “catch rope” for me to grab when she’s close enough. Something else new is her high-tech grazing muzzle. Wearing it will let her roam freely on horse trails along with her buddies and prevent her from grazing on grasses too sugary for her health.

I plan to for Sunni to wear that style of muzzle when I pony her. She’s a grass-grabber and big-time–sometimes stopping quickly and unexpectedly, challenging me to stay on Rosie’s back.

This whole family will head for a horse trail on my days off from work next week.

Dear Friends: Finally, we’re all “back in the saddle,” so to speak, and happily. Diana

Wednesday, August 27, 2024

I’m still waiting for word from Pimmy’s doctors that she may come home. By yesterday, her body was working better; she was very alert and with a good appetite. The docs were concerned about her triglyceride levels and needed to follow Pimmy more.

Her hospitalization has made me scramble to learn about the relationship between triglycerides and livers, especially in equine types. Elevated triglycerides (also known as hyperlipidemia) are accumulations of enough fat in the liver to impair its functioning.

What’s happened has resulted from Pimmy’s stopping eating for several days; I didn’t recognize the seriousness of that and blamed it on her medications. Frankly, her veterinarian and I had not been communicating–we were mutually at fault. The upshot was that Pimmy’s body had pulled on stored fat to survive, sending too much fat (or triglycerides) into her liver. Finally, examining Pimmy, the veterinarian found that her liver was in failure mode.

I have also learned that, fortunately, the liver is capable of regenerating as Pimmy’s appears to be doing. I do not know what concoction flowed through Pimmy’s IV for days, but everything worked. This morning, I anticipate hearing that she has normal triglycerides and can come home.

I’m eager to bring her home and have made arrangements for maybe being late to work today.

Dear Friends: Thanks for following these incredibly challenging days for Pimmy and me. Diana

 

Monday, August 26, 2024

Here’s a quick update on Pimmy. Late yesterday, the veterinarian said her vital signs are improving, and she is more interested in the foods offered. They will start to wean Pimmy off the IV fluids and get her ready to go home.

I am waiting to hear more from the hospital this morning. Wouldn’t you know, a hay hauler will deliver a load of low-sugar hay this afternoon, and I must be present. Hopefully, that won’t conflict with Pimmy’s homecoming opportunity.

This caps an enormous learning curve for me. My stoic donkey displayed no visible signs of her failing health before it became patently apparent, and by then, she was close to dying. This hospital intervention has returned her both to alertness and appetite.

Going forward, we must deal with her Cushing’s disease. That requires providing only hay tested for being very low in sugar. That hay will be best for her two buddies, and the three may eat together. So, two problems are solved: low-sugar hay and family dining.

A hanging issue is medicating Pimmy. She will need daily doses of bad-tasting medication and won’t easily be captured for them. This morning, I’m wrapping my head around getting in the new hay and bringing Pimmy home. When it’s time, I will face medicating challenges.

Dear Friends: Their origins and genetics set donkeys apart from their horse cousins. Diana

Sunday, August 25, 2024

My journey with Pimmy has been an intense learning experience, pushing me to grow and adapt rapidly. I had no idea her liver might be failing, nor the seriousness of that happening. Today will be her third day hooked up to an IV, which provides a steady supply of glucose to stimulate her bodily functions, which aren’t bouncing back enough. Yesterday, I visited and saw that she was listless and disinterested in eating.

Late in the afternoon, there was one breakthrough. Pimmy pooped! Just a little, but her caretakers had hoped that would happen. While her gut sounds aren’t strong enough, that gut has produced a tangible sign that it’s working, some at least.

This photo shows Pimmy’s shaved body areas to facilitate hearing her gut sounds.

An attending doctor will call with an update in an hour or so. A doctor briefing me yesterday said that a failing liver can “bounce back.” Today, I hope to hear about new signs of Pimmy’s liver reviving.

Dear Friends: Donkeys blend charm and resilience with surprising vulnerability. Diana

Saturday, August 24, 2024

Yesterday, my donkey Pimmy got loaded into the trailer with help from my kind neighbor Frank. I hauled her to our equine veterinarian. Pimmy had refused to eat for several days and the doctor was concerned about the health of Pimmy’s liver. That was correct; a new blood draw revealed that the liver was in serious condition.

One of the veterinary staff helped me reload the resisting donkey, and Pimmy and I headed across town. Our destination was the equine hospital. She’d be there a couple of days and force-fed to revive her appetite and calm her liver. Her attending veterinarian called yesterday evening and said the progress was slow; she asked me to be on standby overnight and reachable in case they needed to contact me.

I didn’t hear anything overnight–good news.

An important thing to understand about equines is that the minute one refuses to eat, it indicates a potentially serious problem. I recognized that Pimmy wasn’t eating and assumed that was associated with the meds she had been receiving. She has a metabolic condition known as Cushing’s Syndrome. I had been following veterinary instructions to treat it.

Those instructions included separating Pimmy from her horse buddies. feeding her special hay, and giving her meds. The outcome has taught me more about a donkey. This animal has a big emotional component. I believe Pimmy was distressed for being separated, receiving forced medications, and having to eat unlikable de-sugared hay. She became depressed and stopped eating, lost appetite, and her liver went berserk.

I hope she has improved overnight and is well enough to come home today. There’s much to figure out to keep her adequately fed and medicated. The feedings will become easier because a load of low-sugar hay is en route here, and all the equines can share it.

But medicating Pimmy daily will be tough. The sleepy-looking animal knows what’s next when I move toward her with medication and she dodges away. I don’t want to separate her again. That will mean encouraging her to come to me, to accept a disguised, bad-tasting pill.

Dear Friends: This part of my journey with Pimmy is a steep learning curve. Diana

Friday, August 23, 2024

In another couple of months, which will probably be blistering with rhetoric, Americans will elect a new President. Like many, I am fascinated by this round’s process and eager for its ending. Not only do we have a fresh candidate for our major leadership role, but the Feds have announced that ahead will come reduced long-time and sky-high interest rates. Whew!

Here at the Ranch, my donkey Pimmy is a serious topic. She has been diagnosed with a metabolic condition labeled Cushing’s Disease. A couple weeks ago, I separated Pimmy from her horse buddies to feed her prescribed food and provide routine medications. Over several of the past days, she has appeared depressed by standing listlessly in a dim corner of the barn and not eating.

I assumed her not wishing to eat was related to her meds, so I didn’t call the vet. However, a month had passed since her initial examination and blood draw. Neither the clinic nor the veterinarian had contacted me about Pimmy’s bloodwork and follow-on care routines. I contacted the clinic and learned that my case had been overlooked. Essentially, contacts from Pimmy’s vet were overdue.

Mutual accusations: The clinic had dropped the ball; neither I nor the vet had initiated a call.

That veterinarian, a capable clinician, became distressed to learn that Pimmy wasn’t eating normally, potentially creating serious liver problems in the donkey. I’ll leave out my expressions of anger and frustration.

I was directed to stop the medications. I was to offer grain, hoping Pimmy would eat. I then was to release her to be among the horses, hoping she would eat with them, regardless of their hay not being appropriate for Pimmy’s metabolic condition.

Pimmy did eat some of the grain before rejoining the horses. She approached Rosie’s hay and ate bits of it slowly but steadily. A relief to see.

I will try to get a veterinarian here today to check on her. I have mixed feelings about continuing with the clinic we were using. It’s overlooking Pimmy’s case, creates distrust, and feels unforgivable.

Dear Friends: The mismanagement! By that clinic, its veterinarian, and by me. Diana

Thursday, August 22, 2024

Today’s header photo of Osix and Miles watching me from a high and distant deck proves the worthiness of a quality automatic-focus camera. This quick shot surely would prove a throwaway. The dogs, active and noisy behind a complicated structure, would yield a no-good fuzzy image. But oh my, I do love it!

This scene is what I see on my trips downhill to the barn. All four dogs are usually at that deck barrier, clamoring for my attention. Soon, they’ll rush downhill, demonstrating more eagerness to be alongside me but confined by chain-link fencing. I haven’t attempted to capture their images through the chain-link, a highly complicated structure for the camera to ferret out. Today, the clarity of my casual deck shot encourages experimentation.

Here’s another complicated capture and definitely a throwaway, but it’s surprisingly clear, despite adverse conditions that my camera had to ferret through.

Peaches’ cage makes it difficult to capture him clearly enough. This image handles the image-interfering cage bars, but the structure beside a sliding glass door reveals part of a fuzzy outer deck. This shot uses the camera’s impressive automatic capabilities.

This is a fun, distant capture. I love Ravens, especially the family that annually nests nearby. My favorite spottings are of the parents training their fledglings. It’s impossible to miss Raven activities; the birds are as noisy as they are large. Here, the babies, instructed to park, are awaiting the return of their parents; they’re making lots of noise.

Again, the automatic setting makes a quick and revealing grab.

Today, I’ll shoot for the dogs high on that deck and also when they’re lower at the chain link. I will be eager to learn how my camera handles the challenges.

Dear Friends: Capturing through a fine telephoto lens is my distant dream. Diana