Give Lefty a Hand

A few weeks ago, I broke my left hand. The 4th metacarpal bone to be exact. I am (thankfully) right-handed, but my buddy Lefty does quite a lot to help move things along.

A few hours after. All my fingers are extended in this photo, except the broken one.

Metacarpal fractures are common injuries that account for 30-40% of all hand fractures. They most often involve the 5th (pinky finger) and/or the 4th metacarpal (ring finger) and are also known as boxer’s or bar-room fractures.

This is from the next morning. It does look like I got into quite the kerfuffle doesn't it?

Typing, Holding things, Many household chores, Bathing, Dressing, Cooking, these are all things that are slightly more challenging to do without Lefty.

How did it happen? Dog walking. The short of it is that I was not present in that moment. I had a gazillion little distractions. I was monkey-minding (something we all fall into from time to time). With a little help from Dingo the dog.

I’m fortunate in that the things I am presently committed to – work, meetings, etc. I have been able to either walk to, get a ride to or Skype myself in to. At work, my intern very kindly offers to take dictation. My clients are often surprised, “Oh no! What happened??” Sometimes I like to say, “Well, I was wrestling a wolverine…” or perhaps more believably, “I caught an edge snowboarding...”

Unfortunately they didn't offer a Carolina Blue cast...

Not surprisingly, I’ve really increased my speed and accuracy in one-handed typing. I’ve revamped my meal plans for items that are soups, casseroles and stews; recipes that can be made with pre-chopped vegetables, meat and a lot of stirring. We have feasted on paella and enjoyed a chocolate pavlova dessert. The Crock Pot is seeing more action. The stand mixer and food processor have never been busier.

Soon the cast will come off, but the lesson has been learned. Dingo reminds me, in her goofy, awkward, “ding a ling” way, that I must be present and patient in all of life’s moments. Even the seemingly mundane ones such as dog walking. I have said before, that dogs are our bodhisattvas in fur and this was revealed to me again in an eye opening (and bone breaking) moment.

And Dingo is her Name-O

Yes, ladies and gents. The New Dog has a name.

Dingo.

And yes, I've heard all the "ate my Bay-Bay" jokes, enough now. She does look at bit like a dingo, it's true but I think she might be a Belgian Malinois-yellow Lab mix.

She is a lovely girl. More confident now being left on her own. Very excited to play with a tennis ball and loves a flying disc - in fact she has shredded a few already. We think she is younger than 2 because she's still teething a bit.

She seems an excellent candidate for agility and/or flyball and I can't wait to try her out with that.

The Dog with No Name

We adopted a dog this weekend from a shelter in Los Angeles. Witness the satisfied customer above, taking her first contented dog nap.

We'd seen her mugshot on the shelter's website and thought she looked like a good dog.  She was in a kennel with 2 other dogs about her size. When we approached she was nibbling on the others to prevent them from coming close to us. Not in a very aggressive way, but more like puppy gnawing on them as if to say - nope, these are MY people!

She seemed a little freaky when they moved her from the kennel to the outdoor space where we could see her alone, but she calmed down a bit and we decided that for a shelter dog, she seemed very mellow. We walked her around the block at the shelter and were pleased to notice she was an OK leash walker but needed a little practice.

She rode home well in the car, seemed relaxed and when we got her home we spent some time walking in our fenced back yard with her off leash. We came inside and she explored around then we took her for a walk around the neighborhood, again giving her more leash practice time. She's VERY interested in cats! Other dogs don't seem to rate much interest, nor do children, people on bikes or loud trucks.

She arrived at the shelter Dec 17, they estimated about 2 years old and pregnant. She was handed in by her former owner. She left micro-chipped and spayed. I'm glad she was spayed, but I wonder what happened to her pups.

She is very relaxed for a new dog. I think she is just relieved to be at a house, without other dogs and the smells and the drama that is inherent in a shelter. She has demonstrated to us she is house-trained and she enjoys her brisk walks in the neighborhood. She is getting much better on lead but still has some separation anxiety. She doesn't know it but when I go out for a while today she's getting a nice puzzle chew toy with treats inside. I hope she likes it because she's not terribly food motivated. In fact she hasn't eaten much since she's been with us. Her low food interest and worm problem will be addressed at her vet appointment.

For a shelter dog, she is surprisingly mellow and well-behaved. She's been one of the easiest dogs I've ever encountered.

Name-wise we've had a few ideas - but so far she remains without an official moniker.

Dear Old Mrs Dogger

Though it has been more than a year since you departed this world, I still have moments where I think of you.

Hiking in Runyon Canyon last weekend was one of them. I remembered the sheer joy on your face as you yodeled to me from the back of the car. You knew where were were going as soon as I turned onto Franklin to park. I remembered that day we ran into Cesar Milan with his pack of pitbulls up there. That time that you resolutely decided to not walk a step further and it took several of us in turns to carry you down the hill, then straight to the vet where suddenly you were "fine".

You greeted me every morning without fail as though it were the happiest moment you'd ever experienced. You taught me so much about living in the moment because you embodied the joy of the Now. You were loving and kind to everyone equally. You tolerated the loving tugs of enthusiastic small children on your ears and tail without a grumble, just a deft sidestep. I watched you sleep and dream. I knew all your groans, moans, barks, growls and yodels. You spoke clearly yet without words. You taught me about love and family, about life and death. You provided solace in grief, nurturing in illness, abundance in emptiness. You were my furry bodhisattva.

I'd like to get another dog but as I know it will never be the same without you -- I hestitate. Still, when you entered my life, I had not planned for nor expected you. You were just there one day and it felt as though you had always been. When you fell into a deep puppy sleep in my lap the afternoon I drove us home, my heart opened to receive your love in a way I had never experienced.

One day, perhaps another being like you will join me on the road of life. In the meanwhile I will gratefully accept your presence in my memories and your appearance in my dreams for the precious gifts they are.

Twit Pic

Wish I knew the HTML to change this so it's upright... but this is me learning to use Twitter to send photos.