Tuesday, March 01, 2016
Friday, February 26, 2016
Gravitas -- What's That?
Whatever happened to the word "gravitas"? I haven't heard it used once this political season. Is there any wonder?
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Born Feb 25th, 1999 -- Stella Bella, My Littlest Bouvier
Sunday afternoon, Sun Feb/21/2016. Dr. Dale Krier is gone. Stella is gone. Ziggy is Prince of the hill. I'm still King.
Meet Dr. Gail Krier, an ironic name given her specialty: mobile geriatric and end-of-life veterinary care. Ziggy liked her when she came to visit Sunday, five days before Stella Bella's 17th birthday.
Around noon, Saturday, February 20th, Stella came trudging into the kitchen which meant she wanted to go out so I opened the door, watched her stretch, look around somewhat casually, then carefully amble down the 2 shallow steps onto the grass. She liked to make this trip by herself so I usually followed her progress through the windows. For some reason, I didn't this time.
Stella's walk was a short one: after bathroom activities, taking a left, walking along the side of the house, another left, up the terrace steps, back into the house. This does not take long. Sometimes, along the way, she would stop to bark at the neighbor's black, midget dog. Otherwise it was an uneventful little stroll.
But when I sensed this day's trip was taking a little too long, I went out to find her standing unsteadily, dazed, facing the wrong direction, lost, swaying from front to back. Clearly she had had some kind of catastrophic episode. Heart attack? Stroke? Brain tumor? A week ago, her blood values had been perfect.
Not wanting to startle her, I approached her sideways until I was able to reach out & touch her. Somewhere in her depths, despite her condition, she seemed to recognize me. I could swear I saw a sigh of relief.
I attached Stella's black and white polka dot lead, and ever so gently, led her onto the right path. She followed me into house, to her safe spot where I sat on the sofa right next to it. This usually comforted her enough so she would lie down.... which she did, in slow motion, onto her side, falling into a deep sleep.
Hours later, her body clock announced it was feeding time & Stella came to the kitchen, very weak & limping badly. But she refused food & water. She refused a pain pill wrapped in smelly, delicious, Boar's Head genoa salami -- sliced thin. So I reversed her path where I sat on the sofa again & Stella lay down again. There I remained. There she remained.
Through tears, I grew to accept that this was to be the end so I left a message for Dr. Krier, notifying her of Stella's situation and, via text messaging, we decided that, since Stella was resting comfortably and apparently not suffering, we would wait for the morning unless there was an emergency.
I spent the night with Stella, checking on her condition many times during the night. Her breathing was so shallow.
5:45am, Sunday, February 21st: Ziggy wanted to go out so I took him for a quick walk while Stella snoozed. But on my return, I found Stella standing blank & lost just a few feet from her safe space. Again her internal clock told her it was time to go out. But she couldn't make it so I coaxed her back to her padded area where we both remained until Dr. Krier arrived later in the morning.
When Dale (Dr. Krier) arrived, after hugs, we sat around and talked; everyone knowing what was before us. She pointed out what a blessing it was when our canine friends let us know it was their time, making it easier for us to do what we had to do. I suppose but it is still tough.
I remember the first time Truman & I met Stella with Kathy Dawson in Baltimore MD. Stella was terribly shy. Constantly anxious, it seemed we could never make her feel totally safe even over the ten years she was with us.
At first, she buried her biscuits for a later snack when no one was looking. She hollowed out spaces behind bushes around the house where she could hide. All her life with us (starting at age 7) and continuing for the next 10 years, she always required a safe space; a crate, a corner, a sofa. When, finally, she couldn't jump any more, we spread towels & pads & blankets on the floor between the sofas where she would feel safe and that's where she lived for the last two years.
Stella never played, never wagged her tail, never kissed, never walked toward me but I could always count on her being behind me.
She never took treats from strangers & towards the end, even required that I put treats on the floor for her to pick up at her leisure. From the start, Sophie always respected Stella but Ziggy got his 'what for' when he got too frisky with her. Sometimes she barked at a stranger approaching the house -- usually me. I'd like to think it was a happy, welcoming bark but I doubt it.
Stella never got over the traumas from the first six years of life -- whatever they were. I'm told she was used as a brood bitch in a Missouri puppy mill. Supposedly, she birthed 6 litters and the only time I saw her really excited was when a vet tech friend stopped by with her rescued Chihuahua and Stella thought it was a puppy.
But she traveled with me to Bouvstock & other Bouvier events where she never let me out of her sight. She hiked with me & Sophie in Ridgefield's parks -- Sophie leading, Stella following.
She joined us at restaurants with outdoor venues for lunches or dinners. She hung out with me when I dipped my toe into local politics and ran for selectman. She helped me hand out pamphlets in front of Stop 'n Shop. She got used to riding in the car after a rough start of peeing & drooling on the back seat. She loved the snow.
In the ten years she was with us, I never heard her whine or cry out in pain. She never demanded anything of us. But we tried our best to give her everything we could. I hope now, finally, she's at peace. I know her official kennel name but I prefer to think of her simply as
Meet Dr. Gail Krier, an ironic name given her specialty: mobile geriatric and end-of-life veterinary care. Ziggy liked her when she came to visit Sunday, five days before Stella Bella's 17th birthday.
---
Around noon, Saturday, February 20th, Stella came trudging into the kitchen which meant she wanted to go out so I opened the door, watched her stretch, look around somewhat casually, then carefully amble down the 2 shallow steps onto the grass. She liked to make this trip by herself so I usually followed her progress through the windows. For some reason, I didn't this time.
Stella's walk was a short one: after bathroom activities, taking a left, walking along the side of the house, another left, up the terrace steps, back into the house. This does not take long. Sometimes, along the way, she would stop to bark at the neighbor's black, midget dog. Otherwise it was an uneventful little stroll.
But when I sensed this day's trip was taking a little too long, I went out to find her standing unsteadily, dazed, facing the wrong direction, lost, swaying from front to back. Clearly she had had some kind of catastrophic episode. Heart attack? Stroke? Brain tumor? A week ago, her blood values had been perfect.
Not wanting to startle her, I approached her sideways until I was able to reach out & touch her. Somewhere in her depths, despite her condition, she seemed to recognize me. I could swear I saw a sigh of relief.
I attached Stella's black and white polka dot lead, and ever so gently, led her onto the right path. She followed me into house, to her safe spot where I sat on the sofa right next to it. This usually comforted her enough so she would lie down.... which she did, in slow motion, onto her side, falling into a deep sleep.
Hours later, her body clock announced it was feeding time & Stella came to the kitchen, very weak & limping badly. But she refused food & water. She refused a pain pill wrapped in smelly, delicious, Boar's Head genoa salami -- sliced thin. So I reversed her path where I sat on the sofa again & Stella lay down again. There I remained. There she remained.
Through tears, I grew to accept that this was to be the end so I left a message for Dr. Krier, notifying her of Stella's situation and, via text messaging, we decided that, since Stella was resting comfortably and apparently not suffering, we would wait for the morning unless there was an emergency.
I spent the night with Stella, checking on her condition many times during the night. Her breathing was so shallow.
5:45am, Sunday, February 21st: Ziggy wanted to go out so I took him for a quick walk while Stella snoozed. But on my return, I found Stella standing blank & lost just a few feet from her safe space. Again her internal clock told her it was time to go out. But she couldn't make it so I coaxed her back to her padded area where we both remained until Dr. Krier arrived later in the morning.
When Dale (Dr. Krier) arrived, after hugs, we sat around and talked; everyone knowing what was before us. She pointed out what a blessing it was when our canine friends let us know it was their time, making it easier for us to do what we had to do. I suppose but it is still tough.
At first, she buried her biscuits for a later snack when no one was looking. She hollowed out spaces behind bushes around the house where she could hide. All her life with us (starting at age 7) and continuing for the next 10 years, she always required a safe space; a crate, a corner, a sofa. When, finally, she couldn't jump any more, we spread towels & pads & blankets on the floor between the sofas where she would feel safe and that's where she lived for the last two years.
She never took treats from strangers & towards the end, even required that I put treats on the floor for her to pick up at her leisure. From the start, Sophie always respected Stella but Ziggy got his 'what for' when he got too frisky with her. Sometimes she barked at a stranger approaching the house -- usually me. I'd like to think it was a happy, welcoming bark but I doubt it.
But she traveled with me to Bouvstock & other Bouvier events where she never let me out of her sight. She hiked with me & Sophie in Ridgefield's parks -- Sophie leading, Stella following.
In the ten years she was with us, I never heard her whine or cry out in pain. She never demanded anything of us. But we tried our best to give her everything we could. I hope now, finally, she's at peace. I know her official kennel name but I prefer to think of her simply as
Stella Bella
Feb 25, 1999 - Feb 21, 2016
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
From My Memory Bank - How 60 Minutes Come to Be
During the early years of my time in TV news, I was fortunate enough to know and work with Mike Wallace, Harry Reasoner, Don Hewitt and others in later years.
But how did 60 Minutes come into being?
Fred Friendly was CBS News president at the time. Don Hewitt, respected news gadfly, had finished a documentary on Frank Sinatra (I think the first on Sinatra). Included were never-before-seen footage of Sinatra cutting an album in real time, his back stage entrance onto the MSG stage, his performance, Sinatra's bio and more. It was a great doc but Fred Friendly wouldn't put it on the air because it wasn't "news".
I was in the main newsroom to hear the Hewitt side of his conversation with Fred Friendly on the subject. To say the least, it was a loud conversation.
As a result of that conversation, Don was banished to the rear of the production center -- a former dairy between 10-11th ave on 57th St. That's where all the film projectors & telop machines were housed. Believe me, it was a remote part of the building. His secretary was one Suzanne Davis, a brilliant girl, who -- in a 6 degrees of separation moment -- turned out to be my college girlfriend's roommate.
Months, probably more than a year, it was rumored that Don was working on a new project. One day, in the hallway outside the Evening News studio-newsroom, Hewitt asked to borrow my stop watch, a new split second Heur.
By the time '60 Minutes' debuted, Fred Friendly had resigned over principle and Dick Salant (also a wonderful but very different executive) had replaced him. Don Hewitt and '60 Minutes' had found an ally on executive row.
Lo & behold, Don had filmed my stop watch running for a full 60 minutes and, of course used it (in actual time) as a logo & bumpers between segments on his new show. The original anchors were Wallace & Reasoner.
That's how '60 Minutes' came to be.
Monday, December 28, 2015
2015 Reading List
The List: A Novel
Martin Fletcher
December 24, 2015
Rin Tin Tin: The Life and the Legend
Susan Orlean
December 13, 2015
Rogue Lawyer
John Grisham
December 6, 2015
The Girl in the Spider's Web: A Lisbeth Salander novel
David Lagercrantz
September 18, 2015
The Girl on the Train: A Novel
Paula Hawkins
September 13, 2015
The Brothers: The Road to an American Tragedy
Masha Gessen
September 12, 2015
Private Screening (Tony Lord Book 1)
Richard North Patterson
September 12, 2015
The Fujifilm X-T1: 111 X-Pert Tips
Rico Pfirstinger
September 6, 2015
The Magic of Reality: How We Know What's Really True
Richard Dawkins
August 31, 2015
How We Got Here: A History of Technology and Markets
Andy Kessler
August 31, 2015
The Patriarch: A Bruno, Chief of Police novel
Martin Walker
August 26, 2015
The Crowded Grave: A Mystery of the French Countryside
Martin Walker
August 15, 2015
Black Diamond (Bruno Chief Of Police Book 3)
Martin Walker
August 9, 2015
The Dark Vineyard: A Novel of the French Countryside
Martin Walker
August 2, 2015
Bruno, Chief of Police: A Novel of the French Countryside
Martin Walker
July 25, 2015
The Wright Brothers
David McCullough
July 16, 2015
Palace of Treason: A Novel
Jason Matthews
June 9, 2015
Red Sparrow: A Novel
Jason Matthews
June 9, 2015
Young Money: Inside the Hidden World of Wall Street's Millennials
Kevin Roose
June 9, 2015
The Burning Room (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 21)
Michael Connelly
May 3, 2015
The Black Box (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 19)
Michael Connelly
May 3, 2015
The Drop (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 18)
Michael Connelly
May 3, 2015
The Overlook (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 13)
Michael Connelly
April 29, 2015
Echo Park (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 12)
Michael Connelly
April 28, 2015
The Closers (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 11)
Michael Connelly
April 22, 2015
Lost Light (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 9)
Michael Connelly
April 17, 2015
City of Bones (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 8)
Michael Connelly
April 12, 2015
A Darkness More Than Night (Terry McCaleb Book 2)
Michael Connelly
April 3, 2015
Angels Flight (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 6)
Michael Connelly
March 26, 2015
Trunk Music (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 5)
Michael Connelly
March 17, 2015
The Last Coyote (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 4)
Michael Connelly
March 5, 2015
The Black Ice (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 2)
Michael Connelly
February 23, 2015
The Black Echo
Michael Connelly
February 12, 2015
Hitler's Peace
Philip Kerr
January 26, 2015
Station Eleven: A novel
Emily St. John Mandel
January 24, 2015
Man Who Was Thursday, The
G. K. Chesterton
January 21, 2015
Martin Fletcher
December 24, 2015
Rin Tin Tin: The Life and the Legend
Susan Orlean
December 13, 2015
Rogue Lawyer
John Grisham
December 6, 2015
The Girl in the Spider's Web: A Lisbeth Salander novel
David Lagercrantz
September 18, 2015
The Girl on the Train: A Novel
Paula Hawkins
September 13, 2015
The Brothers: The Road to an American Tragedy
Masha Gessen
September 12, 2015
Private Screening (Tony Lord Book 1)
Richard North Patterson
September 12, 2015
The Fujifilm X-T1: 111 X-Pert Tips
Rico Pfirstinger
September 6, 2015
The Magic of Reality: How We Know What's Really True
Richard Dawkins
August 31, 2015
How We Got Here: A History of Technology and Markets
Andy Kessler
August 31, 2015
The Patriarch: A Bruno, Chief of Police novel
Martin Walker
August 26, 2015
The Crowded Grave: A Mystery of the French Countryside
Martin Walker
August 15, 2015
Black Diamond (Bruno Chief Of Police Book 3)
Martin Walker
August 9, 2015
The Dark Vineyard: A Novel of the French Countryside
Martin Walker
August 2, 2015
Bruno, Chief of Police: A Novel of the French Countryside
Martin Walker
July 25, 2015
The Wright Brothers
David McCullough
July 16, 2015
Palace of Treason: A Novel
Jason Matthews
June 9, 2015
Red Sparrow: A Novel
Jason Matthews
June 9, 2015
Young Money: Inside the Hidden World of Wall Street's Millennials
Kevin Roose
June 9, 2015
The Burning Room (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 21)
Michael Connelly
May 3, 2015
The Black Box (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 19)
Michael Connelly
May 3, 2015
The Drop (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 18)
Michael Connelly
May 3, 2015
The Overlook (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 13)
Michael Connelly
April 29, 2015
Echo Park (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 12)
Michael Connelly
April 28, 2015
The Closers (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 11)
Michael Connelly
April 22, 2015
Lost Light (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 9)
Michael Connelly
April 17, 2015
City of Bones (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 8)
Michael Connelly
April 12, 2015
A Darkness More Than Night (Terry McCaleb Book 2)
Michael Connelly
April 3, 2015
Angels Flight (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 6)
Michael Connelly
March 26, 2015
Trunk Music (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 5)
Michael Connelly
March 17, 2015
The Last Coyote (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 4)
Michael Connelly
March 5, 2015
The Black Ice (A Harry Bosch Novel Book 2)
Michael Connelly
February 23, 2015
The Black Echo
Michael Connelly
February 12, 2015
Hitler's Peace
Philip Kerr
January 26, 2015
Station Eleven: A novel
Emily St. John Mandel
January 24, 2015
Man Who Was Thursday, The
G. K. Chesterton
January 21, 2015
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Sophie & The 2015 Holiday Season
Dear Friends,
This picture of Stella Bella, now 16, was meant to be our Holiday Greeting card for 2015 but, as some of you know, we recently put Sophie to sleep. That took a lot out of us.
Add to that, December is the anniversary of the passing of two of Carol's family members & we currently have two dear friends who are in dire health circumstances. The joyful mood left us.
But, be that as it may, I wanted to take this opportunity to sincerely thank you all for the outpouring of concern and condolences when Sophie died. We've all had the experience, sometimes multiple times. It never gets easier but somehow some seem more tragic than others.
Sophie, rescued by the wonderful Deborah Dickerson, had a terrible life. She was with us from age 7 to age 12. Like many rescues, It took her about 3 years to bloom into the Bouvier she truly was and could have been had she had a loving & patient home. Three times we almost lost her to various illnesses but she pulled through and everyone marveled at her inner strength and desire to live.
Even on the very day her life ended, she reacted with a warning bark at a young man who inadvertently stuck his hand in front of her face. I never figured out what that behavior was about but she always reacted this way when someone put their hand out for her to smell. Surely something traumatic must have triggered it because, though protective, Sophie was, first, a lady; then a Bouvier with a properly balanced temperament.
She was my shadow, moving from room to room, from guard position to guard position when I worked outside. She was a great companion as we hiked through the many open spaces in and around Ridgefield. When we would get to a fork in a trail, she would look to me for direction. She enjoyed these little adventures and I took her everywhere. She loved riding in the convertible, top down.
We had lunches & dinners together at dog friendly restaurants, sat on park benches while I sipped a cup of coffee, obligated to share my croissant with her. She was always the perfect companion but always calmly on guard.
Sophie loved to run and she did for the first four years that she was with us. She enjoyed her freedom and patrolled her two and a half acre territory with great care. She respected Stella and spent hours Bouv playing with Ziggy -- the 20# mutt we added to our home several years ago, thanks to Dagi Henry. They became a true odd couple.
But in her fifth year with us, Sophie had one of her periodic grand mal seizures. It was in the middle of the night & Ziggy raced to her aid. I found Sophie writhing on the floor, repeatedly slamming her spine against the corner of a square leg of a nearby table, her flank soaked in urine.
After I slid her away from the table and puddle of urine, I stroked her and eventually she re-emerged into the conscious world. But it was clear her hind quarters had been injured. She couldn't stand at first and, from then on, had difficulty getting up, walking, keeping her balance.
Although over weeks and months, she improved, still you could have knocked her over with a feather. She stopped running. And although she never cried out in pain, it was obvious she was in constant stress. Periodically I heard a low moan. We tried various medications to help her live more comfortably to little effect. Throughout it all, she still insisted on following me from room to room, exerting valiantly to stand up and plopping down in the next room, tired from the strain.
As winter drew closer, I had visions of Sophie trying to balance herself in the snow and on ice, slipping, falling, flopping around like a fish out of water. I couldn't get it out of my head and I knew I couldn't let it happen. I watched her weaken day after day.
Finally, one Sunday, while Carol was home with me, I burst into tears and told her it was time. The sun was shining. It was an unseasonably beautiful day, a day when I was to plant fall bulbs.
Instead I called Dr. Dale Krier, a mobile vet who specializes in veterinary hospice care and euthanasia. I broke down on the phone, as did she, because at the time of my call, she had been sitting on the side of the road mourning one of her own dogs..... named Sophie.
She arrived a few hours later, in her private car, with her son and medical bag. I introduced her to Sophie and we talked quietly for a while. She described what would happen and we decided to go outside, on the grass, in the sun on this otherwise beautiful day.
I got Sophie to lie down and lay next to her as she got her first shot that relaxed her. That took a few minutes to take effect. Carol and I were in tears. I talked to Sophie, stroked, hugged and kissed her and told her how much I loved her. I know I was the last voice she heard as she sank into drugged oblivion. After asking if we were ready Dr. Krier injected Sophie with the drug that put her into a permanent sleep. In a few minutes, she pronounced her passing. I stayed with Sophie for more minutes, sobbing and hugging her.
Dale made an imprint of her paw in clay and left us to grieve privately.
Finally it was time and we rolled Sophie onto a canvas stretcher and gently placed her in the back of Dale's car. Dr. Krier then spent another half hour with us. She lit one of those little mourning candles. She provided us with comfort, hugs, grieving resources & explained the next steps.
I wanted to know how Sophie's body would be treated and that the ashes I received would actually be hers. Dr. Krier assured us that Sophie's remains would handled with respect as she was taking her to a crematorium where the entire process was video taped. She would review the tape. Her fees were handled gently, with sensitivity.
Later in the day she called to see how we were doing. She checked in the next day and she called both of Sophie's vets with the news.
Several days later, she returned with Sophie's remains. So Sophie is home with us again, sharing space with Sabrina and others.
We did our best for her and she did her best for us, right up to the very end. She was a big, wonderful, beautiful girl and, like all the Bouviers before her, I miss her terribly.
This picture of Stella Bella, now 16, was meant to be our Holiday Greeting card for 2015 but, as some of you know, we recently put Sophie to sleep. That took a lot out of us.
Add to that, December is the anniversary of the passing of two of Carol's family members & we currently have two dear friends who are in dire health circumstances. The joyful mood left us.
But, be that as it may, I wanted to take this opportunity to sincerely thank you all for the outpouring of concern and condolences when Sophie died. We've all had the experience, sometimes multiple times. It never gets easier but somehow some seem more tragic than others.
Sophie, rescued by the wonderful Deborah Dickerson, had a terrible life. She was with us from age 7 to age 12. Like many rescues, It took her about 3 years to bloom into the Bouvier she truly was and could have been had she had a loving & patient home. Three times we almost lost her to various illnesses but she pulled through and everyone marveled at her inner strength and desire to live.
Even on the very day her life ended, she reacted with a warning bark at a young man who inadvertently stuck his hand in front of her face. I never figured out what that behavior was about but she always reacted this way when someone put their hand out for her to smell. Surely something traumatic must have triggered it because, though protective, Sophie was, first, a lady; then a Bouvier with a properly balanced temperament.
She was my shadow, moving from room to room, from guard position to guard position when I worked outside. She was a great companion as we hiked through the many open spaces in and around Ridgefield. When we would get to a fork in a trail, she would look to me for direction. She enjoyed these little adventures and I took her everywhere. She loved riding in the convertible, top down.
We had lunches & dinners together at dog friendly restaurants, sat on park benches while I sipped a cup of coffee, obligated to share my croissant with her. She was always the perfect companion but always calmly on guard.
Sophie loved to run and she did for the first four years that she was with us. She enjoyed her freedom and patrolled her two and a half acre territory with great care. She respected Stella and spent hours Bouv playing with Ziggy -- the 20# mutt we added to our home several years ago, thanks to Dagi Henry. They became a true odd couple.
But in her fifth year with us, Sophie had one of her periodic grand mal seizures. It was in the middle of the night & Ziggy raced to her aid. I found Sophie writhing on the floor, repeatedly slamming her spine against the corner of a square leg of a nearby table, her flank soaked in urine.
After I slid her away from the table and puddle of urine, I stroked her and eventually she re-emerged into the conscious world. But it was clear her hind quarters had been injured. She couldn't stand at first and, from then on, had difficulty getting up, walking, keeping her balance.
Although over weeks and months, she improved, still you could have knocked her over with a feather. She stopped running. And although she never cried out in pain, it was obvious she was in constant stress. Periodically I heard a low moan. We tried various medications to help her live more comfortably to little effect. Throughout it all, she still insisted on following me from room to room, exerting valiantly to stand up and plopping down in the next room, tired from the strain.
As winter drew closer, I had visions of Sophie trying to balance herself in the snow and on ice, slipping, falling, flopping around like a fish out of water. I couldn't get it out of my head and I knew I couldn't let it happen. I watched her weaken day after day.
Finally, one Sunday, while Carol was home with me, I burst into tears and told her it was time. The sun was shining. It was an unseasonably beautiful day, a day when I was to plant fall bulbs.
Instead I called Dr. Dale Krier, a mobile vet who specializes in veterinary hospice care and euthanasia. I broke down on the phone, as did she, because at the time of my call, she had been sitting on the side of the road mourning one of her own dogs..... named Sophie.
She arrived a few hours later, in her private car, with her son and medical bag. I introduced her to Sophie and we talked quietly for a while. She described what would happen and we decided to go outside, on the grass, in the sun on this otherwise beautiful day.
I got Sophie to lie down and lay next to her as she got her first shot that relaxed her. That took a few minutes to take effect. Carol and I were in tears. I talked to Sophie, stroked, hugged and kissed her and told her how much I loved her. I know I was the last voice she heard as she sank into drugged oblivion. After asking if we were ready Dr. Krier injected Sophie with the drug that put her into a permanent sleep. In a few minutes, she pronounced her passing. I stayed with Sophie for more minutes, sobbing and hugging her.
Dale made an imprint of her paw in clay and left us to grieve privately.
Finally it was time and we rolled Sophie onto a canvas stretcher and gently placed her in the back of Dale's car. Dr. Krier then spent another half hour with us. She lit one of those little mourning candles. She provided us with comfort, hugs, grieving resources & explained the next steps.
I wanted to know how Sophie's body would be treated and that the ashes I received would actually be hers. Dr. Krier assured us that Sophie's remains would handled with respect as she was taking her to a crematorium where the entire process was video taped. She would review the tape. Her fees were handled gently, with sensitivity.
Later in the day she called to see how we were doing. She checked in the next day and she called both of Sophie's vets with the news.
Several days later, she returned with Sophie's remains. So Sophie is home with us again, sharing space with Sabrina and others.
We did our best for her and she did her best for us, right up to the very end. She was a big, wonderful, beautiful girl and, like all the Bouviers before her, I miss her terribly.
Saturday, October 03, 2015
Gun Control
From a thread started by my Facebook friend, Duke Struck, on gun control, the question on the table was "What's the answer?" given the...
Posted by Jan Rifkinson on Saturday, October 3, 2015
Thursday, October 01, 2015
Friday, August 14, 2015
This is a social experiment
Does anyone recognize this beautiful young woman, circa 1968, Location NYC, Central Park, Bethesda Fountain?
This photo was taken w a 300mm lens. She knew I was shooting her & smiled that little smile.
I fell in love, returning to the fountain many times but never saw her again. I placed ads in the local paper. I had the photo enlarged to life-size & glued to the back of my rent controlled apt door so I could see it every day as I left for work (a bit creepy, I know).
Recently I found the original black & white photo (Tri-X film) & decided to share this unrequited social experience with all of you.
Maybe you'll recognize
her or she will recognize herself.
Hopefully you will share this with
all your friends.
What a story if it comes full circle.
Thanks.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
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