Spring Phlox in bloom at the forest perimeter

 

We get so many nuisance phone calls we've developed a tendency to let them ring. Most of the calls come from abroad with accented voices trying to sound cheery, feigning casual familiarity and offering their names that are typically of European derivation though the caller clearly betrayed by their accent is from the near East. Most of those calls are offers for 'duct cleaning'. To our knowledge scant few people believe their ducts need cleaning. In all our years living on this street there might have been one house that had the procedure done. The result is that when calls come in at dinner or breakfast time, we ignore them.

 

 

We figure that if someone really wants to contact us they'll leave a message and this type of nuisance call seldom does. But when there's a call at signal times we seem to intuit correctly that it's one of our children. Early this morning it was our granddaughter, upset because one of their dogs had become critically ill. They managed fortunately to find a relatively close veterinarian who agreed to examine the pooch, a rescue from abroad whom they brought home about four years ago.

 

 

Our daughter lives rurally and she maintains a compost pit that she instructs their two dogs not to venture into. So much for instructing dogs tantalized by the smells of food remnants they believe are deliciously edible. Two days ago the dog was found to have been into the compost pile, gorging on heaven-knows-what; rotting vegetable matter for the most part. Then last night she became ill and began to languish.

 

 

She's now being kept overnight with the veterinarian clinic for observation. She was diagnosed with canine pancreatitis. She was infused and given pain killer, and to our daughter's and granddaughter's immense relief, she'll be back home and on the mend in a day or two. Had this occurred during the coronavirus pandemic it would be have been close to impossible to secure even a dire emergency visit with a vet.

 

 

Jackie continues to compulsively lick his rear end, but we think somewhat less frantically. It's early days yet but the impacted anal gland should be on the mend after his treatment yesterday morning at the veterinarian clinic. He's behaving more like himself, and his full appetite has returned. He still stopped from time to time while we were out in the ravine this afternoon, to occasionally lick himself until he realized we'd moved on and he had some catching-up to do.

 

We're into a heat wave. Irving removed the tarp from our air conditioner standing at the side of the house in preparation for its use. He also brought up a few floor fans from the basement, one for our bedroom, another for the family room. The sun is in full regalia, burning through the sky, parching the environment. A light breeze was certainly appreciated. And there were some pleasant surprises as we wended our way through the forest trails.

 

 

Spring phlox is in bloom at the forest periphery. And we saw the first of the pilotweed flowers in bloom. We'd seen the wild cherry trees blooming last week, and now it's the turn of the plentiful dogwood shrubs in the forest. Just as well the forest canopy is now full, the shade it throws is a fine rescue from the potential of full sun exposure during the hottest part of the day winding our way along the forest trails.

 

 

Back at home sweeping up the great piles of fallen petals from the fruit trees was a mere distraction to the real purpose of being out in the garden: watering everything that has been latterly planted, both in the garden pots and urns and in the garden beds themselves. Irving put the sprinkler on to douse that part of the lawn that had been newly seeded. And then we took ourselves out to the back deck to sit awhile under the canopy roof because Irving had brought out all the summer furniture and a restful enjoyment of the environment was in order.