126 Dog Days

ago, Hope came to stay with us for home care. That's about 18 human days and in reality, seems a lot longer. It's hard to imagine another dimension of time superimposed on our dimension of time. As it is, so many people pack more than they can in a 24-hour day. What is it like to have 7 dog hours in 1 human hour??!!

Hope was lightly sedated for her transfer and delivered in a HUGE box. Here's the kicker- pets are not allowed in our condominium! but as it were, Hope has the perfect profile (at least for this situation)- she makes no noise and doesn't run around! Nonetheless those were some nervous moments!

Hope where she can see me most of the time. Rearranging furniture for Hope's space

I was fortunate that her caregivers before me had already worked out a daily routine which I could more or less follow and it looked easy enough from what they had shared with me. Of course it's easy to think you know everything just with knowledge and forget that it's experience that really counts in the end! I quickly found out that though I had the strength to lift Hope to take her for the 5-a-day pit stops, I didn't have the fitness required to lift her weight. By the end of the first week I felt like I had been moving house, shifting countless boxes!! Other things we do a lot more of include mopping and laundry!

It was time to institute some discipline or suffer more! And Discipline's not my personal favourite challenge. Learning to lift Hope the correct way and getting back to a routine with yoga for stretches and strengthening the muscles. I also reckon that if you're trying to do some good for a cause but don't do any good for the self then there's something here that's amiss and in the longer run, doesn't work out to be very constructive.

Hope in her morning sun spot by the balcony

why do you have to do what you do?
Hope's thinking, watching me do the yoga routine

Treats to keep her stimulated and occupied and just enjoying Life -
one milk ice treat each afternoon to beat the sweltering heat

I make her a frozen milk treat which she gets each day. Just simple enjoyment and stimulation.

Surely the soul can hardly heal the body if it does not taste the joy of Life.

Today I baked liver biscuits. Hard ones to keep the teeth clean, burn some time and also a new treat to reward her for her exercise routine which is gradually being stepped up. Only they look like brown hershey kisses thingees and not really the best subject for a photo! But Hope only cares about the important details.

I'm done with the milk ice, now what? - taking comfort in her favourite Grumpy cushion

the wheelbarrow walk using a towel sling 4 times a day
(to the duration of 2 Barry White songs!) to maintain forelegs flexibility and strength

We do a half hour of PROM (Passive Range of Motion) exercises twice a day for all four legs. This involves passive flexion, extension and light massage of the muscles to enhance blood circulation, prevent muscle contracture and maintain flexibility. We do daily sit-to-stand exercises and her hind legs seem to be getting stronger, where previously her hind leg muscles had severely atrophied and were totally limp. Now Hope is able to bear her own weight on her hind legs for a tiny little 8 seconds each time. I know it's really little but it means a lot right now from what we first began with. Hope is also getting more active as I get her to scoot on her butt to get to her food dish. It's sometimes difficult and pulls at the heart strings watching her do it, like watching a stroke patient learning to walk, but I'm hoping it will unwire any learned helplessness she might have acquired. She shows interest in trying to move around but sometimes gets overwhelmed by the effort required.

In a couple of days when her pressure sores have just about shrunk to a smaller spot, we'll be trying on her baby plastic pants which will help protect her bony butt and cut the friction so she can scoot around on her butt.

the similarity amuses us!

A well-wisher brought Hope her favourite Grumpy cushion which has proven most useful and comfortable, much like a travel wraparound-the-neck cushion. Hope spends hours hugging it in some kind of affiliation.

Bali Kakiang

I have some memories of my maternal grandfather but I was too young to really have known him. In my child's memory, he seemed like a kind and quiet man. Perhaps he brought us little gifts and small toys when he visited us.

Bali Kakiang (Kakiang means Grandpa in the local Balinese dialect) was probably the closest thing I came to knowing a grandfather and at best, it was still distant.

This painting I passed several times in a shop window on my last trip to Bali.
It reminded me of Kakiang and how he would look on his way home at the end of the day.
The dead and dried coconut palm leaf stems were collected for firewood as
most of the villagers in our village still cooked with firewood.

It now hangs on the wall where I sit every day at my desk in front of the lap top,
bringing back rich memories that reside in the heart.

Language and a whole different life separated us and few words passed between us. But that didn't prevent us from sharing moments that needed few words. We sometimes sat in silence over a mug of coffee, always sitting on the floor as is the normal Balinese practice, or by the reflective fish pond in the garden when he dropped by, always unannounced like a ghost. Some early mornings when the day has already begun for the farmers but hardly anyone else is stirring, we'd stand together and nod our agreement and approval on inspecting a healthy growing shrub or the moss-covered Balinese stone carved guardians at the front gate.

Other times we'd be running out of the house and shouting in alarm and frantically waving our arms to attract Kakiang's attention and screaming for him to be careful as he steadfastly climbed his wobbly bamboo ladder up a fruit tree to pick the harvest that was nestled 20 meters above. Mostly he ignored us or irritably grunted something I had no way of understanding. His bent-double form, inching up the tree, slowly but surely. A rest day simply didn't exist in his life. Some mornings we'd wake and find a freshly picked ripe lush papaya laid at our doorstep or a newspaper bundled treasure of sweet potato, damp earth still clinging to the roots.

It was Kakiang who conducted the prayers and blessing for the house when we first moved in as he was the land owner. His daughter-in-law all dressed in her traditional finery, was in attendance. Half way through the solemn ceremony, her mobile rang and it was a comical sight to watch her groping around in her kebaya top where she had stashed it away. Not for a moment was Kakiang distracted from his important task.

When I moved out of Bali just over a year ago, I said my goodbyes but never really knowing whether Kakiang understood what I tried to say to him. Half a year later he passed away, not surviving a road accident while walking home one evening on the street where I used to live.

Kakiang on a mission.
It's not apparent, but he's already ascended about 25 feet up this tree

Another painting by the same young artist which I absolutely had to have. The artist's commentary is that man is very much an animal himself, like the other animals. In fact, animals show/keep their color but a man is ever ready to change his color like the chameleon.

Intoxicated

Intoxicated by the wine of Life
impalpable cocoon of stillness.
nectar coursing through the labyrinth of veins.
eyelids laced with webs of dreams
layer upon layer,
emerging from the vortex of night
to meet the glittering necklace of dawn.

(12 May 08, Bali)

braving the high altitude cold morning air,
we perched at the rim of the crater waiting for first light- photo taken with KC

Too long since we've been away.
We returned to Bali last week, the second time in the last two months after being away for over a year. Our return was met by friends who welcomed us like long lost siblings. It was nothing short of a home-coming everyone wishes for. Re-visiting our secret retreats, the soul and every breath defined infinitude.
We headed straight for the hills to what had been our last home in the small village of Junjungan, just north of Ubud.

The absence of excessive man-made pollution- of air, noise, light, infrastructure, was striking. The morning air, crystal clear, wrapped every space in a palace of silence. Night-cloaked country roads devoid of street lamps lit only by the love language of the ephemeral fireflies. The night skies, bejeweled with stars, beckoned us to wake and drink in the heavens. The tapestry of green- padi fields herringbone stitched with towering coconut palms and embroidered with nameless wild flora soothed the eyes like summer rain.

Life simplified, without distractions, without clutter, leaving only the unadulterated taste of Life. Sated with the good life, this is my Rasa Tanah.

the lotus beauty graces our pond at home; the silent temple guardian

the canopy of cerulean skies; a wandering fragrant frangipani floating in my pool

the proliferate bamboo; view from the bedroom as dawn breaks over the tree tops

toiling marks every day of the calendar in our village;
this always takes my breath away- majestic towering volcanos and cascading terraces
(the view from around the corner from where we used to work)



magnificence mirrored

Diary of Hope

This is my diary about Hope.

There are so many questions we wish could be answered. There is so much certainty we desire.

Often when we set out on a path, we make targets and plan for results. Our lives are so oriented towards achievement that the possibility of failure probably means we would not choose to embark on that path. Although the irony of Life is that just when we are dead sure of things, it doesn't even always turn out the way we planned and managed things!

This journey is not one of those. There are no guarantees, there are no clear markers for success. This is a journey of the heart, of hope and faith. Perhaps what we are learning each day is not to focus on where all this will take us at the end point and the constant weighing of whether each effort, each step is worth something. Rather this is about each and every moment with Hope, about Hope and about each of our journeys of discovery, growth and realizations. And if we see the richness in each day, and live in moments- then surely we have reached a summit many of us do not recognize and take for granted every day.

11 Mar 2008
Hope was rescued off the streets and has already spent a month boarding at the vet.

Her pressure sores on both shoulders and hips are pretty severe at this stage.

Her ribs are showing from malnutrition and she has heavy yellow discharge from her dry eyes. She seems quite listless.

She has a spinal lesion and compression in the thoracic vertebrae which affects her upper motor neuron function and is paralyzed in both her hind legs.

18 Mar 2008
Hope lying on kid’s floaties to take the pressure off her sores which have almost gone through to the bone by now.

She’s been transferred to a crate and shows some interest in what’s going on around her.

Started on Hope’s PROM (Passive Range of Motion) physiotherapy 5 days ago.

She’s also been getting some alternative health therapy (reiki) from H who rescued her from being abused on the streets.

24 Mar 2008
Hope’s pressure sores are a constant challenge.

Her hind legs have suffered from muscle atrophy and disuse. There's no movement as her hind legs are totally paralyzed and limp.

Carrying her out of her crate for her physio takes quite an effort.




27 Mar 2008

Hope has been moved to her new residence yesterday.

Here’s Hope at P&R's home. They’re making sure she’s well-cushioned and the main concern now is to reduce her pressure sores and increase her overall well-being.

She’s being turned every hour to help with the pressure sores. Her caregivers are kind and attentive and it’s only with this kind of care can the pressure sores be alleviated.

Looking after Hope is a full-time responsibility. P&R are in an ideal position as they are retired and able to give her the attention she needs for now. Needless to say, their kind hearts are part of the healing formula.

10 Apr 08

Barely 2 weeks have passed in home care and Hope has noticeably perked up.

She shows interest in her surroundings and people. She has begun to sit up on her elbows. She whimpers to call for P.

Her sores have improved tremendously and are granulating well. The wound doesn’t look so sunken any more.

15 Apr 08

Hope always looks serious but she’s showing signs of affection.

She sometimes sits up when people are around and only moves, presumably by dragging herself when she’s left alone.

The diameter of her sores have shrunk considerably. Her shoulder wound has closed.










This is the dining room which P&R so generously cleared of furniture for Hope's use.






Hope getting attention from her visitors and very caring benefactor.








17 Apr 08
Hope sitting up but still has no use of her back legs.

She is on an anti-inflammatory and supplements. The rest is left to time and hope that her nerves will heal by themselves.

If this were a perfect life, she would have been treated by an orthopedic vet and neuropathologic surgeon. But such treatment is not readily available in this part of the world. Acupuncture would have been another desirable treatment but again, no expertise is available here.

Her larger size adds another challenge as she has to be carried especially for toilet times when she needs help with having her bladder expressed.

27 Apr 08

Hope struggles by herself to sit up like a normal dog.

She seems to enjoy the attention and relaxation during her PT.

Her sores have almost healed.

She shows a larger range of responses and emotions now.

Her ribs no longer show with proper diet and her hind legs have some flesh now.
Her caregivers have done such a great job.