Topside GF

On the road again, Frankie the blind lab, Tuesday night basketball, and more

K t, to answer your earlier question. I think dogs can feel guilty, but maybe ashamed is a better way to describe the emotion they experience. For lack of a better transition, that's about all the insight I have on that topic.

On Sunday I take off for an "adventure" of my own, though I won't be traveling anywhere near as far as you did TSO. Which, by the way, I'm glad you made it through your adventures all right. My adventure is more along the lines of hoping to find a job. I have four practices I'm visiting: two in Wisconsin, one in Ohio, and one in Pennsylvania. I will spending about a week at each of them. They are all would have me taking care of dairy cows, cats, and dogs. I'm pretty excited. It'll be good to get beyond the walls of academia and get some real world experience for a while. If nothing else, it will be a good litmus test to see if this is what I really want to do, or if I should look in another area of veterinary medicine. I'm basically going to load up my car with everything I need and be on the road for one month without coming back. Most practices are paying for me to stay in a hotel, and the last practice I'm visiting will have me crash in a spare bed room since there aren't hotels around. I'm pretty excited about it. I have some friends I'm going to visit along the way for places to crash during the weekends. Hmmmm...seems like there should have been more to that, guess not.

Oooo, here's a little reflection about something I learned from Frankie, the blind lab, that I met last week. Frankie lost his vision about a year ago. It seems like that would be a traumatic event, but Frankie doesn't seem care. He still goes out running every day in a field by where he lives. And when he runs...he runs full out. He knows the field, so he usually does pretty well, but occasionally he runs into something going full speed. Does that make him stop doing what he loves? Does he feel sorry for himself? Nope, he just picks himself up and starts going again. And Frankie walks around on a leash like nothing is wrong and trusts you to keep him from running into things. What a great attitude about life....If you are doing something you love and get knocked flat out, pick yourself up and do it all over again. Maybe we should have more caution than that, but I think you know what I mean. I love dogs.

I haven't shared a "now that's living" moment for a while...so here's one, though I'm not sure how to do it justice: Tuesday night basketball. I'm not sure when it started, but every Tuesday night at 6pm while classes are in session a group of vet students gets together at our rec and plays basketball. Freshman through Seniors are there. It isn't limited to vet students, friends of vet students, people dating vet students, etc. go as well. We show up, shoot for teams, and then play with a great deal of intensity. All skill levels are represented...from people who had hardly played before our Tuesday nights, and we have some one who played Division II at the college level. Everyone passes to everyone. If some one air-balls it...we tell them (or I get told) to keep shooting and we give them the ball the next time down the court. Guys and girls play, and even one of our professors shows up. Every year or semester one of the regulars emails the school and invites everyone to come play...stressing that no skill is needed. We play together so that we know eachother's strengths, weaknesses, and we do get some great plays going because of this. It's a lot of fun and a great environment. For a while there were only a few people, but the week before there were 32 people there and three games going at the same time. Each weak you go home sore, but you leave much stress from the day on the court when you leave.....mmmmm....now that's living.

If you'll permit me...one more: About nine months ago...I shared a "now that's living" moment. You probably don't remember it, but the just was one great night spent with friends, and having my favorite song (It's a great day to be alive) come on in while riding in my friend's truck (also named Nate) and us singing along. Well, last week three of the same friends were in the truck and Nate played "It's a Great Day to Be Alive" because he remembered the night from nine months ago. Our dear friend Shiela, in the back seat once again also remembered that night nine months ago and the song coming on. And since I'm typing this...you know I did too....mmmmmm.....sharing a moment with friends that is remembered by all almost a year later when you haven't brought it up before then....now that's living.

Take care everybody. I'm not sure how much internet access I'll have on my trip, but I'll be back. To echo TSO's thoughts, thanks for posting on here everyone, it's a great way to keep in touch. (hugs all around)

posted by bearded vet @ 11:57 AM