June 23, 2006

• Greyfox came through for me again!

  I know I have mentioned this before, but….

  My beloved Old Fart has so many “gifts” that it’s easy to miss a dozen
  or more when trying to enumerate them all.  He is often
  outrageously funny, and can even make me laugh at situations that are
  horrendously serious.  That’s truly a gift to be treasured.

  He has another trait that I treasure:  he likes
  to make me laugh.  That’s a win-win one, because laughter is often
  the medicine I need most.  He sings to me, for example.  I’ll
  answer the phone with a simple, “hello,” that sometimes has an
  undertone of depression or comes with a pained whimper.  He’ll
  respond with some original ditty that can’t fail to draw a laugh from
  me.  Lately, his little songs have been on a common theme: 
  the new pet name he has come up with for me, “Schnoodles.”  Not
  particularly pleased to be called Schnoodles, I am nevertheless proud
  to be that man’s Schnoodles.  It’s a paradox I can live with.

  He
  sings spontaneously of Schnoodles, but I have to ask him to, “do the
  Mighty Mouse.”  Besides having a good singing voice, he’s a gifted
  mimic and can sing, “Here I come to save the day!” just like in the
  cartoons we remember from when we were kids.  There was so much
  going on yesterday when he came up the valley that I didn’t even think
  to ask him to sing out about saving my day.  I guess it’s enough
  that he did it:  not just saved the day, but at least a whole week.

  When we parted in Wasilla a month ago, we both laughed as I said
  I’d see him when I ran out of cat food.  Looking over the carload
  of supplies I had gathered to haul home, and considering the
  comparative consumption rates of the dog, Doug and I, and our housecats
  plus the feral felines and strays we feed, I was pretty sure that I’d
  run out of cat food before running low on any other necessity. 
  It’s as much as quadruple the town price in the little local stores, so
  I hesitate to buy much of it around here.  Ergo:  “see you
  when I run out of cat food.”

  I anticipated being driven out onto the road to town by a lack of cat
  kibble, and it still looks as if that might be what eventually urges me
  into town, but on his stop here yesterday before heading up the valley
  to Sunshine Clinic to get his teeth cleaned and pick up our monthly
  supplies of prescription meds, he dropped off a case of stinky canned
  cat food and a big bag of kibble, so my eventual need to go to town has
  been pushed back about a week.

  That liberty to stay home and rest is what I appreciate most, but it’s
  not all that he brought.  He brought more of the vitamins,
  minerals, amino acids, herbs and OTC cognitive enhancers that are as
  important to my well-being as the prescription meds.  He brought
  fresh fruit and vegies, too, which I value highly.  There had also
  been a sale on steak, so all three of us enjoyed a rare (in more ways
  than one) treat for lunch before Greyfox headed back on down the valley
  to his little home away from home that is basically a bed in the little
  cabin that is mostly a knife warehouse. 

  I sent him on his way with a big container full of home-cooked beans
  and ham, and a smaller one of rice to go with it.  We nurture each
  other.  Some might see that as a token of “love”, and maybe in
  some way it is.  I see in it a sign of our interdependence, an
  acknowledgement that we each have a stake in the other’s
  well-being.  It’s also a practical matter, as well as a way we can
  please each other.  With no cooking facilities other than a
  microwave, Grefox often subsists on frozen dinners that are more
  expensive and less tasty than those beans.  It’s another win-win
  deal for us.

  This entire relationship has been a win-win deal in ways that neither
  of us ever anticipated.  That’s really a good thing, too, because
  neither of us has gotten out of it what we wanted when we got into
  it. 

  
  

  • 4:07 pm
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