ManicDDaily

Pearl in Office

I have never much liked Western medicine.  Perhaps my antipathy started with the allergy shots I got for years as a child.  (There’s nothing like an injection once a week to put you right off the smell of rubbing alcohol.)

I’ve also always been a bit suspicious of veterinarians, especially in New York City.  They often seem to be altogether too proactive when suggesting costly diagnostic tests and procedures.  (Could that have anything to do with high rent?)  They also sometimes look askance at my dog’s home-done (i.e. inept and patchy) grooming.

But today, I blog in awe of Western medicine,  a New York City vet, and steroids. I am even almost sympathetic with Floyd Landis.

Yesterday, and the day before, I wrote about my genuine (if not fully voiced) fears that our beloved dog was on her last legs.  (These would be her two front legs, since her hind ones were suddenly completely paralyzed.)  I shouldn’t joke about this—it’s really been terribly sad.

But, a few doses of steroids (for her, not me), and I find myself amazingly light-hearted.  Pearl is not exactly back on her feet, but she can just about push herself up, and she is definitely in much less pain.

She is even back to her old insistence on a ritualistic personal schedule; meaning that, when I was briefly out, leaving her on a pleasant airy pillow, she dragged herself across a large room and hall into her habitual “office” (my closet).   (I think she’s always had a secret affection for Act IV, Scene VI of King Lear, when Lear points out that even a dog is obeyed in office.)

(Sorry.)

(P.S. –yes, to those of you who follow this blog; the drawing above was originally posted here.)