Friday, January 21, 2022

Stellar!!!

 Keen readers of this blog will have noticed a relative dearth of entries in recent times.  Partly that can be explained by simple laziness (ok, mostly it can be explained by simple laziness) but also it has to be admitted that the creative springs have run dry.  There is only so much one can say about Covid without repeating oneself and I haven't been doing much else lately that is even of interest to me.

In such times of desperation I turn to my Tasmanian correspondent for tales of that distant southern land which I can then mutilate and turn into a few half arsed paragraphs making fun of the more chromosomally challenged members of our society.  Seeking inspiration or at least cheap laughs I fired up the communications centre provided by my tech support (it doubles as a missile launching system but so far I haven't hit anything important) and contacted my reporter in the deep south.  The conversation took a familiar turn.

Me:    Hi there!

Tasmanian Correspondent:    Arrgh!

Me:    Calm down!

TC:    In the name of God put some clothes on!

To be fair a video link was probably not the wisest idea my tech support have ever come up with.  Once my correspondent had regained her natural equilibrium (and I had found a dressing gown) we were able to start discussing the issues of the day.  Or rather, since she's in Tasmania, the issues of approximately fifteen years ago.  As she spoke my attention started to be attracted by something in the background.

"I don't want to worry you..."

"Too late."

"But one of your dogs appears to be lopsided."

"That's Stellar, she only has three legs."

This came as a bit of a surprise as I had met Stellar only a few months ago and while I don't claim to be the most observant person around I was pretty certain she had had the standard allocation of legs while I was there.  My correspondent assured me that this was a recent development.

"So is this a fashion statement or are food supplies starting to run low in Tasmania?"

My correspondent then launched on a tale of canine woe involving illness, pain, noble suffering and finally the reluctant but necessary decision to amputate.  I must confess I dozed off part way through.  When I opened my eyes she had finished and was looking at me expectantly.

"Oh that's..." I scrabbled for an adjective at random, "terrible?"

"It is," she agreed.  Phew!

Poor Stellar had suffered from bone cancer in one of her joints leading to such excruciating pain that the vet had said that either the leg had to come off or Stellar would need to be put down to end her suffering.  Having selected option A my correspondent was then left with the relatively minor task of somehow transferring a three legged, drugged up, 30kg dog from the animal hospital to her home for recovery.  

An operation of almost military precision was put into effect requiring the assistance of children, a retired diplomat and an ex-husband but finally all was completed and Stellar is now on the road to a tripodal recovery while being cossetted and made much of by various children.

Normally at this point in our conversations I would ask questions about the well being of my correspondent's collection of fish and lizards generally with the implication that I expected their numbers to have thinned somewhat since our last communication.  In deference to the situation I didn't say anything so heartless and insensitive.  I was quite proud of the empathy I was showing and pointed out to my correspondent that I hadn't asked how many other of her animals had died and invited her to praise me for said empathy.  Oddly this didn't go down as well as I expected still my correspondent has always been a little strange.

I regained some credit by noting that Stellar was definitely the less annoying of her two dogs and I wished her a speedy recovery.  At least I assume I regained a little credit, at this point my correspondent's conversation consisted largely of obscenities and death threats and I'm not entirely sure if she heard me over her own hysterical shrieking.  Given the circumstances I decided not to press my correspondent for any material for my blog and settled myself for wishing Stellar well and saying I would call back later.

"You're going to use this in one of your damned blog entries aren't you?"

Well yes I did but in my defence I waited until I knew that Stellar had pulled through the surgery and that she seems to be making a full, albeit three legged, recovery before I did so.  With any luck Stellar will be around for many years to come.

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