There can be dozens of black-capped chickadees in the bare branches near the bird feeders, so we were surprised to see our bird-chasing dog sitting quietly while Everett refilled the containers.

I talked to Joan yesterday and she said Baby Ben has had some peculiar seizures this past week and has not been himself. By the time I spoke to her today, he had been flown to Vancouver (yesterday) by air ambulance after having some kind of seizure that lasted a long time. Neither Joan or Gary were permitted to accompany him in the ambulance because another patient had to go, but it happens they had tickets to fly to Vancouver for a company social event anyway so were flying out at 1:30 today.

Joan sounded really good — calm and strong — but I know she can't possibly be remotely cool about it, and probably cracked up right after we got off the phone. Right Joan? Nah, I'm kidding, and just glad to hear that you are holding up so well. Tough little nut.

It makes my irritating bout with an allergy this week, if that is what this cardboard face and swollen eye is all about, look like small potatoes. It's very similar to what I went through after hearing the diagnosis of Mom's terminal cancer, only this time I'm not freaking out about anything so it's more confusing.

Scott's doing some painting at Golden Grain Farm today and I'm at home, taking antihistamines and relaxing, reading a murder mystery. He should be here shortly and we're to go to Karen's, where he's got some work to do in her house while I get a visit with my other little sister, who offered to cook supper for us. I hesitated, not sure I'd feel good enough to stay that long, but on second thought it would be foolish to pass up Karen's cooking. So we won't.

For those who don't know her, Karen has always had a particularly soft spot for animals and even as a child brought home strays and orphans. Now she is helping out a lady up north who rescues animals that have reached the "Time's Up" limit at the pound and are about to be put to death. Karen helps find homes for these poor animals.

Yesterday she emailed to say a pup's eye had been put out by a pair of scissors and the animal would be euthanized unless someone either adopted it or there were enough donations to cover the $400 it will cost for surgery to remove the eye. Everett and I have offered some money but I didn't say I'd give the dog a new home.

If you want to contribute to his medical costs, thereby saving his life, feel free to use my PayPal account (button below) or call or email (link in list on right) and I'll make sure your cash gets where it needs to go. But let me know first; there is no point in sending any if we aren't going to have enough for the operation.

There are already two dogs in this yard and we don't know whether one of them (Sara, in the photo above) will remain here after we move. I think she will—she was raised here and there will still be people living at the other house— but Scott has doubts, since she sleeps under our deck most nights and knows how to get to the new place. He thinks she'll go where we go, because of that.

We don't want to end up with three dogs. After we get moved and see what's what, and assuming Sara stays here, we'll surely welcome a dog that's been abandoned or lost or abused. Who knows what lands these poor little creatures at the pound. All I know for sure, after reading some of the life stories about a number of them, is that people can sure be stupid and cruel shits.