What’s it all about, Alfie?
December 18, 2013 | My Jottings
Yesterday was a full one and I’m thankful for a day at home today. It snowed another inch or two, adding to the beauty, and nothing seems more right than to hole up at home with a fire in the hearth, carols in the air and a husband who still tries to belt out some tunes in spite of his Parkinson’s-related voice difficulties.
For the first thirty years of our marriage, Michael was always singing or whistling. Mostly he sang worship songs as he worked, in a fine deep voice that somehow carried cheerfulness and worship all on the same sound waves. “Ooooohhh magnify the Loooorrrd, for Heeeee is worthy to be praaaaaised!” or “The steadfast love of the Looooord never ceases, His mercy never comes to an eeeeennnnnnd!” were just two of the many in his happy repertoire.
These days, for whatever strange reason, he’s singing some new songs. His voice is barely above a whisper now, but if he exerts great effort he can “belt” out a line or two that can be heard across the room, and these are the songs we hear most often:
“Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s off to work we go.” From the movie Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
And from the movie My Fair Lady, “I could have danced all night.”
I miss the worship music, but it could be a lot worse, like if in his older years he started singing rap music. Or the twangiest country tunes. That would be hard to take.
So yesterday a lot of things were decided for Michael. At his neurology appointment they tweaked his meds, ordered an MRI to assess the pressures of his slightly too-large brain ventricles, ordered a workup with a urologist, scheduled a four hour neuro-psych test, and prescribed a wheelchair. He is still walking, but with quite a lot of difficulty and festinating (extremely rapid shuffling) most of the time, so even though it seems so sad to me, I think having the wheelchair here is the right thing.
On a lighter note, a person I follow on Instagram (if you’re on Instagram you can follow me at JulieBalm) who owns two Schnauzers recently posted a picture of the bottom of one of her dog’s paws. She said they smelled like Fritos. Then another person commented that yes, her Schnauzer’s paws smell like popcorn. Apparently this is a Schnauzer thing. So of course I had to scoop up Edith and Millie to sniff the bottom of their furry little feet, and guess what? Fritos! How is it that a dog can walk around outside in the grass and dirt and (for us) snow and cement, and their paws smell like Eau de Fritos was sprayed on them?
If you have a dog, have you ever smelled the bottom of their feet? I’d love to know if you have, and if so, what their feet smell like? Maybe you’d like to go take a sniff right now so you can come back to leave a comment so we can start gathering some serious data on this phenomenon.
Here’s a picture of Millie, and the pathetic look she gave me after I smelled her paws. Look at the way she’s milking the situation, lifting her little foot to rouse all the sympathy she possibly can. She put her ears down and looked at me as if to say, “Mom. I don’t like it when you do dat.”
This is the same dog who had the audacity to tinkle on our bed this morning. We’ve always suspected that behind all her quirkiness lurks a dog bent on revenge.
“You sniff my paws? I wet your bed.”
That’s all there is to it.
Send help. 🙂