Bandage

I came across these trees on Sumatra Road yesterday morning while walking Bailey. Autumn leaves against a blue sky -- one of the best color combinations in nature.

My major endeavor yesterday was getting the dog's bandage removed. As I wrote in yesterday's post, it was a sticking plaster that was so heavily stuck Dave and I couldn't peel it off. Bailey never shows any sign of being in pain, but when we began tugging on that bandage she squirmed around like a fish out of water. So I called the vet and they said to bring her in at 3 p.m.

Of course that left the whole day to kill first, so I focused on plowing my way through more of Thomas Mallon's New York diaries. I've been reading -- and enjoying -- this book almost daily, but you'd never know it, considering how long it's taking me to finish. I'm finally almost done. I'm on page 532 with 40 more to go, and by this time Mallon has published several books and is an editor at GQ magazine. It's still making me laugh in places:

(Sept. 14, 1992): "Joan rivers has a face that's been redesigned for television but not life: it is beyond surgery, beyond reconstruction. One can only call it a head transplant."

(May 20, 1993): "If I ever write my Condé Nast novel, I've got my fact-checking story. [P.K.], a very handsome young man whose vacant, lovely face makes Dan Quayle's look craggy with complexities, was doing research on a profile of William Weld. It contained a sentence about how Weld must decide whether he wants to "go for the brass ring" and run for president in '96. Well, [P.K.] called the White House to ask if it was true that new presidents received brass rings. I am not making this up. Marty had to call him into the office (in) the morning, to ask the poor gorgeous lummox what planet he was from."

Finally, in the afternoon, Bailey and I meandered over to the vet's office. The vet tech came out with a can of adhesive bandage remover, and right on the sidewalk she sprayed the bandage and peeled it off with nary a squirm from the dog. That's what needed to happen. Why they ask people to remove the bandage themselves rather than bringing the dog back to have it done properly is a mystery to me.

Incidentally, Bailey shows no sign of wanting to lick her incision, or even any awareness of it. This is a good thing because it means no "cone of shame" is needed. Her head remains entirely unencumbered.

On the way home, we walked the Black Path, where we found some interesting graffiti...

...and where Bailey nibbled grass. You might think she's doing this because she doesn't feel well, but actually she nibbles grass all the time. Olga used to do it too. I call it their "salad." I suppose dogs need a bit of roughage and leafy greens just like people do.

Dave and I finally finished "Game of Thrones" last night; the ending did not disappoint. I'm wondering what the books are like, but one thing I know from working in the library is that they're huge and there are at least five of them -- and I don't think I want to take on that much of a commitment.