I named this post because yesterday my husband went to walk Daisy our dog but forgot to take her. I heard Daisy down stairs and also heard the side door close so I looked out the window and my husband was walking down the driveway alone. I open the window and asked him, "Didn't you forget Daisy?". "Oh, yes, I'll go get her."
A couple members of the family and friends has encouraged me to write about my daily life and notes the events of the day. I have resisted before because I was afraid this type of blog would become a whinny session on the difficulties of living with Alzheimer person. I will try my best to edit this it in a way that tells the story of daily life that I, personally, have a record and the reader has a understanding of changing events.
Walking Daisy has been part of John's life for the last fourteen years. He is famous about meeting neighborhood people on these walks in locations in Wisconsin, Florida, California and now our home in the state of Washington. During most of these years John will fill me in on the neighborhood news and all the comings and goings of people. Of course, I strongly thought that John had the reputation of the more friendly person of this marriage.
John always greeted children with, "Daisy is a licker not a biter, you don't have to be afraid of her." He is also famous for the phase that in the dead of winter, those plastic bags of dog waste were called hand warmers. Daisy is a 40 pound English pointer that looks like a miniature Dalmatian. Over the years, Daisy learned that patience is a virtue while John stood visiting with someone.
Now I must tell John where the leach is hanging each time, where to go - the stop sign and back. It is the length of one city lot from the end of the driveway. John can not give me a report on what Daisy did do or not do on these walks because he can not remember. But on the other hand, he does walk her more often because he forgot when the last time they ventured out. In the meantime, Daisy is getting all the problems of old dogs and sometime walks are not enough or badly timed and she has mis-happens in the house.
It is good we all have each other as I tell John.
Fabulous. Beautifully and thoughtfully written. Looking forward to your next piece.
ReplyDeleteMy reluctance to posting to the adventures of caregiving for, in this case , my Mother, is not to seem to make fun of her behaviour. But those little, or big, things that happen are the things that make it interesting and human and to some extent shed some light on the minds of those inflected (sp?) with dementia.
ReplyDeleteAs context, I think that the opportunity to help take care of my Mother at this the end of her life is a blessing and can only hope to pay back some of the love she has given me as a child and since.