Excentric

Yesterday, traveled to Dewey, AZ so my wife could play with some very young Beagle puppies. It's been a little over 2 years since our 14-year-old Spaniel, Tess, left us. Tess was special. I know everyone thinks they're pet is special, but Tess laid down to die at age 10 due to Auto Immune Deficiency - a common ailment among overbread puppy-mill Spaniels. Tess was a Humane Society pup. The Sedona Humane Society is stellar, and has been for a long time. Tess was taken to a vet who suggested sending her to phoenix for a transfusion, if they found a match, and an overnight stay, with no guarantees. My wife and I had decided Tess would die in our arms and not in a strange hospital miles away. The vet's assistant volunteered to go home and bring in her Boxer and let the vet hook them up to a love transfusion. We agreed and the deed was set into motion. It took a few hours and we took her home. We were told that if she lived through the night she might live a litttle longer. The assistant also said that if she made it, she might be a little dumber, because her Boxer wasn't that bright. We sat up all night watching her breathe. The next day the meds had worn off and Tess seemed as though she would pull through. An interesting coincidence was that the Boxer was named Tesla. Tess lived on for another 4 wonderful years. That, and everything else about her, made her special.

Dewey was a bonding dya, as the pups' mom had gotten scratched and her mammaries became infected. The caregiver, a Beagle champion breeder for nearly 40 years was under vet's suggestion to megaphone her head and keep her away from the pups until she recovered. A bunch of people came and loved on the puppies and got some lickings and pup nips with those sharp, little teeth. Everyone's socks survived the tugs of war, the puppies always winning. Our cat, Moshe, prevents us from puppy adoption. After Tess died, she took over the house and our lives. She's named after my former business partner, friend and mentor, Morrie, Morris, Moshe in Hebrew. Like Morrie, our cat is not a devout Jew, not even close. I remember making Morrie a pulled-pork barbecue sandwich. After devouring the tender, saucy, coleslaw topped pork he commented, "We are a stupid people. This is one of the best things I have ever eaten." He also loved Christmas, along with just about every other gentile holiday. He lived each day in celebration. There is much to say about our short relationship, but one of my favorite quotes of his was, "I can't understand why people would say 'Today is the first day of the rest of your life.' I would prefer to live as if I knew today was the last day of my life, making sure to tell everyone how much I love them and how sorry I am for any harm caused."

Morrie is the reason there is a Sedona Excentric publication. I plan to devote some blog space to talk about how we met and how he influenced my life. His effect continues, as tomorrow I begin working on February's Excentric. Meeting with Butterfly Lady tommorow to find out who she is and how she can fit into the arts and crafts shows we promote. Come to think of it, tomorrow is going to be a busy day, as it will include measuring to replace storm damaged windows and emailing the folks from Bone Marrow Registry USA to discuss working with their organization at our art shows.

Salad time.

That's all for now . . .