Well, tomorrow’s the day I have to go to the doctors,and then possibly on the hospital if he/she thinks I have a detached retina. Fingers crossed, I am hoping for something lesser. At the moment my right eye has become home to a colony of frogspawn and tadpoles, illuminated of an evening by random flashes of lightning. It makes blogging that much more interesting, shall we say, as the white screen brings out the frogspawn in all its dotty gelatinousity.
Getting to the nearest hospital on public transport is a nightmare in itself – one bus, two trains and a long, untried walk with a street-map – so if the worst comes to the worst I will drive over to my mother’s and get a taxi from there. And then there’s the coming back, with an eye full of atropine and everything out of focus. But we shall manage, one way or another, because we always do. And, looking on the bright side, who knows what blogging material might wander my way whilst I’m hanging about on the 99th floor of a ‘special measures’ NHS hospital? I shall be sure to take a big notebook, a tin of pencils and a pencil-sharpener.
To be fair, apart from a nightmarish parking situation I have had no bad experiences at that hospital to date. And, looking on the brighter side, I may well not have a detached retina – far more likely to be something that will clear up in a week – a touch of eyefluenza, say.
And now for genuinely good news. If you happened to read my recent(ish) post concerning a very large, very loud dog I was thinking of as Baskerville (it was the post with a lot of Wooooofs in it – my onomatopoeic attempts at capturing the sheer volume of Baskerville’s bark) – well, he’s still next door. But I did happen to bump into my neighbour this morning, and got the whole story over what’s left of the garden fence. Baskerville is in fact a lady, and her name is Ayesha – or something that sounds like Ayesha but is spelt differently – something like Ajska – on her Polish doggy passport. Ayesha was rescued from a man who lives round here, who required payment of the full, humungous pedigree price before he would let her go. I am happy because although it probably means putting up with a helluva lotta wooooofing from now on, Ayesha is safe.
In fact as my neighbour was speaking I realised something. This is the dog I would hear howling and crying whenever I went for a walk or to post letters. Being a cat lady I’m not exactly an expert on barks, but something in that distressed doggy voice always hurt and worried me. I just didn’t know what to do about it. I wasn’t even sure where the dog was, as everything echoes and gets distorted round here. But that was Ayesha, and Ayesha now lives next door.
One more lost soul finds sanctuary.