My darkest, most disappointing summer had a silver lining. Unexpectedly, our daughter adopted a rescue dog named Bluey, and instantly, I became a dog grandma.
Her Bluey, named for the anthropomorphic character in the Australian animated television series, gave our pediatrician daughter instant credibility with the kiddos she treats in her practice.
The medium-sized, two-year-old Australian cattle dog (Blue Heeler) mixed with a bit of pitbull, husky and chow, has tons of energy, imagination and curiosity about the world.
My daughter adopted Bluey and Bluey adopted me.
After being sidelined by another bad accident, as soon as I was released from the hospital, Bluey corralled me as if herding wounded livestock.
He became my protector, tracking my whereabouts, checking that I was safel
y tucked in bed, or on the floor or in a chair. He paced around until I settled, then curled up beside me like a guard dog.
After being confined to a hospital, sprawling across the back yard with Bluey brought no greater delight. The first time I looked at my bruised and battered face, my daughter was concerned I would be shocked and upset. Instead I exclaimed “Aw, I look like Bluey!”
On my worst days, in too much pain to move, I dangled my arm off the edge of the bed finding comfort petting his short coat.
Bluey’s stunning coloring, black with brown trim, a white collar and white and brown specked underside draws admiring glances, but his goofy face attracts smiles. Mischievous brown eyes dance behind black patches. One pointed ear stands up straight; the other folds over his forehead. His upright, curly chow tail gives him a look of aristocracy.
His perky, inquisitive face with his tongue hanging out sideway dares you to join in the next adventure.
Like the rest of McKinzie clan, unsurprisingly Summit Lake, Wisconsin, became Bluey’s favorite spot too. Nowhere in the world has greater appeal than the Great Northwoods. He adores any activity that calls for athleticism, intelligence, and endurance!
He also loves water - so much that his first time at the cabin he got swimmer’s tail because he wouldn’t get out of the lake. He now has a life jacket, so that he can swim to his heart’s content without spraining his tail muscles.
Bluey can run faster, jump higher, swim farther than I ever could dreamed of even at the height of my career. Though I will always long to run, jump and play, nothing brings me more joy now then watching Bluey race across the yard, chase a squirrel up a tree or swim to greet a paddle boarder in the middle of the lake.
Australian cattle dogs, bred in the mid 1800s to herd cattle long distances in rough terrain, are smart, strong and hardy. He treats me fondly as his responsibility, but his true devotion belongs to Nathalie. He is fiercely loyal, protective and affectionate with his owner - to the point where he will bark angrily at me if I dare to ask Nat a question while she is relaxing on the couch with him. She claims he just understands that reading time is sacred.
Known as a “wash and wear” breed, Bluey requires little grooming, but his care can be time- consuming. He must be challenged with lots of exercise, puzzles to solve and tasks to complete. Otherwise, he will create his own trials, such as “how much food can I steal off the counter?”
So far he has gotten a raw steak, a chicken wing, a pork loin that was set out to thaw, a piece of pizza and a tortilla. Sadly for him, he usually gets caught before he can enjoy the spoils of his shenanigans.
Bluey offers ongoing distraction and never ending entertainment. If discouraged by life’s disappointments, detours and disasters, there is no greater comfort than a faithful dog that listens without judgment or interruption.
Although Bluey regularly gets the ‘zoomies’, sprinting through the house at breakneck speeds for no apparent reason, when we went on walks he instinctively slowed his pace to match mine. Never mind that my bodyguard (my ever loyal Frenchman) was only a step away. The day that I could finally hold the leash and walk Bluey, I knew I would recover. Nothing helped me heal faster my new four legged best friend.
Feeling old, achy and foggy brained? Experts say learning a new skill is recommended for our rusty bodies and aging brains. For me, relearning old skills is equally valuable. It is never more important than after suffering a traumatic brain injury (TBI) which can effect spatial awareness, balance, proprioception, executive function, listening, speaking and emotional stability.
I stopped blogging when overgrown connective tissue crippled my fingers from Dupuytren’s Contracture, a hereditary condition. A hand surgeon split my palm open, removed the diseased tissue and attempted to straighten my little finger. The dozens of ragged stitches across my hand healed, but on top of muscle memory, the tendons and ligaments pulled my finger back into a clawed position in a protective natural reaction.
After a half a dozen visits, the ergo-therapist put my hand in thin, plastic glove and dipped it in warm, melted wax. Then she kneaded my palm and finger to break up scar tissue, restore mobility and coax tendons to loosen their hold on the joint.
Lately, the medical field has been broadsided. Healthcare workers face endless scrutiny and skepticism under a tsunami of misinformation on social media and inaccurate directives from the authorities. That, along with major funding and resource cuts, make their job even harder.
My old friends and teammates will remember my notorious feet with toes so crooked I could hang upside down by them. Back in high school in Sterling, Illinois my podiatrist, Doctor Heffelfinger, gave me my first foot orthoses. He also showed me how to tape each toe to prevent blisters from forming between my phalanges when playing basketball.
When he described the complex dissection required to prevent digital nerve injury, it helped that he spoke English. He drew lines across my left hand and explained that he would cut into my palm to remove the chords in my palm and pinky. Unfortunately, my disease had advance too far for him to perform a simpler needle aponevrotomy.
Dupuytren’s and the collagen had formed spirals around the nerves in the finger joint.”
On the bright side, I retain bragging rights in my extended Olson, McKinzie, Lechault, Carlson, Miles, Westphal, Zhang family. I hold the record for the most stitches. It will be hard to beat!