Click images for desktop size: "Robot M1" by Chris Ferris I'm sorry that so many people seemed upset about my doctor's conference yesterday.
It was no big deal.
I took my puppy. With a good dog not much can ever go wrong.
The start of the meeting was fine. My puppy checked out all the doctors, making sure they were genuine and not just there for the show. There were about 7 of them - the team.
My puppy's first priority, and it was a good one, was to make sure that they understood she was a doctor dog and be included in all privileges, including any steak sandwiches which might be passed out at a later time.
After that was a whole lot of rigamarole where I nod my head and try and figure out what the hell they're talking about.
When people are nervous they tend to get technical on you, and some people who are bright have this habit of assuming that you are no where near as bright as them, and hence much stupider than you really are.
I have relied on that most of my life and I'm seldom in trouble unless you meet someone genuinely smart.
In essence I need a bone marrow transplant. I have no blood relations to ask.
(Which beggars the question; how do you ask?
“Hey, remember me? I was just wondering. Would you mind a couple months of excruciating pain so I can live?”
Yeah, that's probably how I'd do it.)
So I go on a list and wait. I made sure that kids have priority and was assured that they do. Thing is that even for kids the wait is about two years.
Having a puppy that some people mistake for a big vicious dog can be a plus. I made them aware that I took this as a promise that I'd survive a least at this level until that time.
My stern demeanor would have had more effect if my puppy had growled menacingly on cue. That she was busy playing with a piece of paper like a cat might have diminished the over all impact a little.
Although she did work her stupid trick to great effect. (When she works as a doctor dog with children she and the kids have devised this little trick that she adores. She stalks her victim {how does a dog think that lowering itself an inch suddenly renders them invisible . . .} and then when right behind them licks their elbow! She quickly takes two steps back to examine the result while she and the kids have a good laugh.) It was warm yesterday and there were plenty of doctors in short sleeved shirts.
Oh yeah. My diet is changed a bit. It used to be that if I hated a food I could have plenty of it. Its been amended to “if I dislike something I can have some of it.”
I also have to use a phylityl soap. Expensive. Lazlo makes the cheapest one.

Click images for desktop size: "Butterfly" by Dimitra 25 So that's it really. Nothing to mind at all.
I did sprain my wrist and index finger again trying to show a kid outside how to throw a knuckle curve ball with a rock. Its really irritating and I'll take all the sympathy I can for that.

Work was busy today. Still had plenty of time for puppy play. Sometimes I can't get over how many people just come in to talk to me.
A fellow today had a real interesting story. He was old, older than me anyway, and was a Cherokee steeplejack.
People may not remember, and they should, that most of the early sky scrapers in America were built by Native Americans. The pay was good and they had little competition. About a third of them died.
No unions.
No knowledge of safety regulations.
He told me about painting bridges and rigging his own harnesses and bosun chairs so he could stay alive. But thats not the interesting story.
When Walt Disney was alive he acquired the Columbia Ranch Studio for a while (now part of Warners). there was a Radio Tower.
Disney was close to death at the time and could see the tower from his hospital room. It might have been the only part of his empire he could see, would see again.
This fellow was hired to paint the tower and everyday he was greeted with a personal memo from Disney commenting on his previous days work and detailing what he wanted to see done today.
The fellow showed me one.