The nose has it.

All our dogs have had different ways of going for a walk. I think it's because they had or have different values. Some dogs are really into running, and thank heaven none of our have been, because the humans in this house were never fleet of foot and are not likely to become so soon. But there are other differences to note. For example: 

1) Large Guard Dog (Tralfaz): The late Tralfaz was by breed a farm dog, meant to tow small carts and protect the herd--making him a guard dog, not a watch dog. His walking habits reflected this: straight line, watch everything, be suspicious of deer and squirrels and any other critter but not immediately aggressive. Walks with him were usually brisk, of varying length.

2) Medium Retriever (Nipper): Nipper was a fuzzy, fun-loving chap, the kind who would love to go on a hunt and retrieve things. Not having been trained as a hunting dog, though, he would probably freak out at the gun and grab the dead duck and eat it. Walks were very brisk, but with long stops to smell what there was to smell, and could be quite long. 

3) Medium Retriever Redux (Izzy): Izzy is a sweet mush for the most part, with protective instincts but a scientific interest in smelling every blade of grass along the sidewalk. Walks are slow and include many stops. 

The fact is, Izzy's walks are not great exercise because he stops constantly. Ants outpace us. Every walk is a snurffin' sniffari. I mean, it's better than nothing for me (who leads the majority of his walks), but it's not taking excess weight off either of us. 

But it doesn't much matter to me about the exercise. Since I work at home, any day that isn't tempting by its pleasantness would probably be a day I stayed in and gathered dust. Having a canine companion guarantees I am going to be outside however lousy the weather is, and I think on the whole that has done me a lot of good. Not that it always felt good, mind you. 

So thanks, fuzzy friends, for keeping me moving, not letting me become a potted ficus. But seriously, can we move someplace warmer?  

Funny how that works.

 

Busy busy busy.

It's been a busy time here at the ol' ranch, the ranch that is actually a Cape Cod style, the ranch that we can't sell at anything close to the original asking price.

There are reasons for that, some our fault, some the fault of others, and some that are part of the complex situation of our town. 

Regardless, I have been under the gun to try to rake in as much dough as I can with my freelance work. So...

Sandra Boynton channeling Gilbert & Sullivan via Kevin Kline -- a highly unexpected but successful combination. 

I was kvetching to a friend that selling the house is the most stressful thing I've ever done in my life -- not the saddest, not the hardest, but the most stressful. She thought that moving out of her house rather than selling it was more stressful, but she also noted that she sold her place in less than a week. I kicked her in the pants and said FINE. No, I didn't, but I want to kick someone. I'm looking for suitable subjects for kicking, if you know any. 

As if I was unaware of how stressful this is, I found myself suddenly suffering from periodic and severe pain on my right jaw. It encompassed the upper and lower teeth and the entire region around it, and was some of the most awful pain I've ever felt--and I've been hospitalized with back pain, had stitches, had a concussion, and had a tooth out, so I know a little bit about pain. This stuff was Advil AND Tylenol level, and even then I would have to just wait out the sieges. It was like having a charley horse on my face. 

I figured I had managed to give myself a nice dose of temporomandibular distress, probably from clenching unawares and also in my sleep. So rather than my dentist, I went to the ENT. My old ear doc has retired, so I went to a new one covered by my insurance, a fast-talking Chinese-born doctor with a heavy accent. It almost seems like a cruel joke to have an ear doctor who speaks quickly and with a strong accent, but there we are. 

The doctor confirmed my self-diagnosis, though, taking pains to make me understand what I can do, which isn't much. He did give me a very light prescription for a muscle relaxant to take once a day. It seems to have helped. I've also made a conscious decision to try to stop myself from clenching the ol' jaw during the day, with mixed success. Nevertheless, the facial agony has moved off, at least for now. 

If you've stuck with this entry all the way to the bottom, I thank you for your kindness, and please share your own agonizing adventures with facial pain, or moving, or stress, or anything else in the comments, so I can return the sympathy. Life is stressful, as we know, and we're all in this together.