Thursday, September 17, 2009

Putting the Boo in Boot

The vet gave Boo the green light for travel to Alaska. Continental Airlines booked a space for Boo in the forward bin of a 737. I’m hoping she has the middle seat between a Rottweiler and a hungry Bullmastiff. As an aside, I saw that once. While unloading fifteen dog crates from the forward bin of a Midwest Airlines 717 I discovered that at the center of the pile of crates were two small cat carriers, each containing one very quiet and very nervous feline. Someone loading planes on the east coast had a sense of humor. On Saturday evening Boo will arrive in Anchorage after spending a day travelling. I called Dr. Tim to inform him of the good news. He was very pleased, as Saturday will be his 40th birthday.

The dry clean only comforter is nice and clean and back on the bed, free of any Booroma. I’ll never pay to have that sucker dry cleaned again. I’m thinking I should be thanking the cat for her episode of doodiness rather than being angry. She saved me some big dry cleaning gators in the future.

So, would you be at all surprised if I told you that Captain Chaos filled her drawers this afternoon? I’m hoping that this brings to a conclusion 24 hours of messes. I think the girl has a flu bug.


After returning from Effingham two weeks ago, I received a comment from MK telling me, “YOU GO TO WAY TOO MANY FUNERALS!!” MK, I agree! I agree so much that I contemplated writing a blog entry that was a memo to all family members, titled “Until Further Notice, Please Refrain from Dying.” I didn’t because I wasn’t too certain that I could keep such a dark subject matter humorous without looking like a complete jerk.

News from Chicago this week informed me that my father’s health is taking a turn for the worse. His congestive heart failure has progressed dramatically since I saw him in Effingham. When I spoke with him on the phone two days ago I cracked an inappropriate joke that I knew he would appreciate and discovered that he had absolutely no clue what I was talking about. His current health status was the crucial reference in the joke that made it funny, but his mind is muddled due to dementia.  He was clueless.  In many ways the apple did not fall far from the tree, so I know that in his right mind he would have enjoyed the joke. If he passes Wednesday’s medical tests his cardiologist is planning on giving him an angiogram on Thursday.

Can I scream now?

Dad is 74. His heart is failing him. His train of thought departs the station and frequently he’s not onboard. He’s frightened. My mother and my brothers are doing everything that they can do for him. I am going to take this opportunity to ask any and all of you who are reading this to say a prayer for my mom and my dad.

I’m really not in the mood for another funeral.


The Boss returns from DC Thursday night after surviving her first command performance briefing to a group of fellow introverts analysts. I really don’t know what made her so nervous since where she works an extrovert is a person who looks at someone else’s shoes. She should have been talking to a room full of hair. Her reward came Wednesday night when she attended a formal dinner at Mount Vernon. I am SOOOO jealous. She dined in Washington’s home. I cleaned up poopy. We are all looking forward to our reunion at MCI.


Lastly, just today General Mayhem asked me what “Bedlam” meant. I explained it to him, and then sat back and watched the wheels turn. He was contemplating the title of this blog. I enjoyed his laughter when the gears caught. Recently, he started reading past posts. He laughs a lot. I have not yet introduced him to the collected works of Arby’s Archives, but soon I will. I will enjoy listening to him giggle, guffaw, and scream “Hey!” when he recognizes himself on the screen. I had many titles in mind for this blog, but living in bedlam came closest to describing my frame of mind as I pass through each day. There was one other title that I almost used, but will save for the day when I venture into a web place of my own. Through the highs and lows of daily life, from the hilarity provided by the innocent antics of little children to the stresses of juggling multiple schedules; from shepherding chickens and the dog that loves to chase them, and the fish and the cat that wants to eat them; through love and pain while standing with a phone in one hand and simultaneously discussing a parent’s health, answering a child’s math question, and cleaning up a wayward mess; this is life, in all its glory. I celebrate it here on this blog. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

6 comments:

Kathleen said...

Oh, Arby, I'm so sorry to hear about your dad!! Will be praying for him and your entire family!!

Love your last paragraph. And poor kitty on that past flight you witnessed; I wonder if he's in therapy?

Khourt said...

Im so sorry to hear of your father. I will keep your whole family in my prayers.

CrossView said...

Dads. I'm so sorry! I'll be praying! I don't know whether you're close or not, but it's still hard to see them become frail. And I hate funerals!

Honestly? I'd rather clean up poopy than deal with a "command performance". I hate those. Takes all I have not to don my invisibilty cloak.

Oh! Bye bye to Boo. Hope he has a happy new home... Long as it isn't mine. ;o)

Teacher Mommy said...

You're coming across a little raw, and I totally get that. I'll be praying.

Kellie said...

And I thought you were kidding about the cat going to Alaska!

And I will keep your dad in my prayers.

Autumn said...

Praying for your mom and dad. I appreciate how you write in such a way that I can feel what your going through...even when it's in regards to poop.

I'm jealous of the Boss too! I wanna go!