Notes

I can see 40 lurking in the landscape and while age is normally relative, I know instinctively (plus having a reminder)I'm officially old. The frightening realization came tonight when I frequented a movie theater for the first time in many years. Due to the monster condition I have (cluster headaches) one of my triggers is watching television and 30 minutes is about the limit lest I tempt the beast. Occasionally there might be an extended viewing allowed but considering the pain of such affliction the prudent action is to limit exposure. If you're thinking how awful this must be, having to watch movies in pieces and consistently take breaks, let me tell you it pales in comparison to the other trigger: alcohol. This one's a surefire screaming, thrashing headache in a bottle. I'm alcohol-free now for approaching 10 years and it's not by choice but rather self-preservation. During this time I've sought the meaning behind it all but come up empty handed every time.

There we were in the theater watching Legend and I had considered asking management to lower the volume. It was so loud as to be disturbing and distracting. The next thought of course was the inspiration for this blog where the harsh reality of age clamped down. There is a conflict though and that is that I thought one's hearing got worse with age, not better. If so, why wasn't the need there to turn the sound up? I shudder to think how annoying it would have been if I were 20!

Giving the dog a bone

The pooches get treats on a regular basis and occasionally they get spoiled with giant knucklebones soaked in that (apparently) tasty concoction. Tonight, after having managed to watch an entire film without flailing about from pain, I decided the gods were smiling and that it was time to whip out the 3 pound dog treats. What a warm reception they got too. Scooter has mastered the sit-n-wag and will sometimes incorporate a front foot patter on the floor, edging his way closer to whatever it is he desires at the moment. Jessie hangs back, looking sheepish, knowing not to get anywhere near Scooter and food, or even food-like substances. These massive bones are wrapped in plastic and have an additional plastic mesh-netting on the outside. Opening them requires a knife, and tests the limits of the dog's patience, which isn't too much to begin with.

The Scoots clamped down on his treat and brought it to the living room carpet in front of the fire. After a few minutes I went over to give him a pet and he froze up, in ready position, and gave out a growl. Shocking. I had a mini-conversation with him about when I rescued him from that bad home, and the all the treats, walks, food, etc. but it clearly fell on deaf ears. Actually, I find it kind of cute that he does the growl and he wouldn't ever bite me. Instead, it lets me know that he's a healthy dog and really likes this gift. Once before I had given him a similar bone that he guarded and prized and I waited for about 10 minutes before walking over. The usual freeze-n-growl started and I immediately snatched the bone from him complete with the typical harangue on being appreciative of your loving home, blah blah. There was no bite, not even a snap. Just a dog intent on getting back this yummy dessert via cuteness manipulation tactics. Took only about 60 seconds to wear me down but the lesson was learned. For both of us.