Where’s Dr. Mary been?

Where has Dr. Mary been since the last post months ago? I’ve been trying to pass law school. Don’t ask!

I am going quiet for awhile more to focus on my studies.

I will say that Cowboy Joe had to be seen by a vet yesterday. I found a wonderful clinic close to home. Cowboy is scheduled for a dental, and to look at a nasty canine tooth. I noticed it the other day. Of course, clients say, “I just noticed this.” Really, it has probably been going on for awhile.

One thing that leads me to believe this may not be true, and it is recent, is that Matthew was on the attack big time a few days ago. Don’t know what the fracas was about, but here is Cowboy, ready for kitty dentures, I guess.

Thanks to Dr. Hegi at Animal Care Clinic. It’s a little embarrassing to say I had to take my cat to the vet, being a specialist and all, but truth to tell, I still haven’t organized my vet materials, the meds I have are out of date, and I haven’t established contact with vendors. Also, the American Bar Association does not allow 1Ls to work. I don’t think that includes my own pets, but it’s a good excuse.

Cowboy Joe, and later Matthew and Franklin, will be under good care. I did bring home rabies shots and certificates for Matt and Frank. That I can handle right now.

Apologies for my absence.

What is a carrot?

It’s a beautiful day in the Hub City. Still warm, although people call it crisp fall weather. It’s in the 70s for crying out loud. I’m going walking in a little while.

It is getting close to first semester 1L finals, so I’ve been hitting the books pretty hard. I think I’m the only one who really likes 1L. It’s pretty fun, actually. Beats the hell out of working. At my age, I am the oldest student in the school, and older than many of the profs. My younger classmates seem to think it’s awful. So why are you here? Some actually say it is because they didn’t know what else to do, so they thought they’d try law school. I can’t fathom that, because they have their whole lives in front of them. Go out and explore the world and have a good time!

I am amazed by some of the students who have all the designer clothes and gear, and drive brand new BMWs bought by Daddy. I noticed one friend of mine had the identical watch as mine, a “Texas Timex.” Her dad got it for her as a present for being accepted to law school. I bought mine five years ago while on a visit to Chicago to hang with my cousins and take a long road trip with my late, best bud, Dr. Jean. I considered mine a badge of honor for surviving a grueling year of orthopaedic misery.

The first car I drove was a ’62 Rambler Ambassador (no, it was not a new car) to drive to high school. It had the old push button transmission. Goldfender was it’s name, but Rustbucket would be more appropriate for an old car in Chicagoland. After I went off to college in Colorado, Natalie took over the old Rambler. On day, she decided to take her friend, Billy, to the bus station. She didn’t tell anyone the bus station was in St. Paul. Mom got some pretty evil telephone calls from angry parents about the wild child of the family. The 14th of next month marks 29 years since Nat’s death, so I’m glad she had all the fun she did out of her 27 years on this Earth.

In college, I rode a bike. When I needed a car, I walked a mile and a half to borrow Uncle Tom’s car. When I returned it, we would have dinner and he would take me back to the dorm.

I needed a car for student teaching. That particular summer, 1973, there were no used cars available. My dad knew everything about cars. As he was the doctor for Volkswagen North Central, he had the manager hand pick a brand new Superbeetle off the boat. I drove that car for 14 years. No a/c, automatic stick shift, and funky 70s yellow. When I bought my first Subaru senior year in vet school, I gave Wilhelm to Earl. He sold it! Was I cranky about that! I think it ended up in Wyoming somewhere. Earl ended up in Keli’s doghouse.

School is helping me get back to normal, whatever normal means. A schedule, coursework, activities and some friends. The only fly in the ointment is that the ponies aren’t with me. I will see them soon. Remember the scene in Paper Chase where Hart and friend rented a hotel room to madly cram for finals? On a small scale, that’s what I’ll do in Arizona, when not riding. This is my favorite scene in Paper Chase. I won’t trash the room. I am well cared for by the hotel staff, as I stay there every time I go to AZ. Riding and studying. Sounds nice. Margo has her work to do, and I don’t need to be entertained. I also know where to hike now. And shop, of course.

The cats were thrilled that my new study partner came over for dinner and stayed until 1 am as we organized for our toughest class and hit it hard. The boys were all around us, as we studied on the living room floor with our junk scattered all around. Frank was on the floor next to me, Matt on the back of the patterned couch, and Cowboy Joe snoring on the blue couch. Kitty heaven. My study buddy and I are a good match, as we have some similar life experiences. She was a teacher also, and has a graduate degree. We shared chili and brainpower.

Lastly, I have to tell you I misbehaved in Contracts class on Thursday. We spend a lot of time dissecting words in the case studies. I’m not kidding now, one discussion was about what is a chicken when it is part of a contract. My lawyer friend with whom I went through K-12, noted that she studied the same case when she was a 1L in the 70s. In the footnotes of that case, there was a Wyoming case that asked what is a cow? No, no, no! Ask what is a sheep in Wyoming. The answer? One, two, three, four, Hello Dinah dear, tea at four?

Back to the misbehavior. One does not besmirch the propriety of a law school class. Let me preface this by saying I’ve had some tummy miseries directly related to eating wheat. Whenever there is a meeting that says, “food will be provided,” it usually means pizza or sandwiches and cookies. I had three meetings in over two days. My body rebelled such that I actually missed a day of class. I’m still in recovery mode. The day’s class was what is a carrot as defined by the Campbell Soup Company. Seriously, they want a special kind of carrot no one has heard of before. I hadn’t had lunch that day, and brought back an apple and, yep, a carrot. As our prof went on and on about carrots, I whipped out my carrot and held it up, not unlike Lady Liberty and her torch. He didn’t see it, but the class laughed. I did it again. Laughter. He was puzzled. Finally, I just sat there and held it much like you probably held your fork and spoon up when you were a little kid. He noticed it finally, and said, “Oh, I get it. You’re Bugs Bunny. I’ll try not to ‘bug’ you.” Then he turned away and looked back and said, “What’s up, Doc”? The class roared with laughter. He shoots, he scores! Honestly, what were the odds that I would have a carrot with me on the day we mused about what is a carrot? Our professor is a legend at the school, and he certainly proved that he thinks fast on his feet.

Maybe next week we will ask what chocolate is. I’d be up for that. In the meantime, Go Rangers!

Go Cubs, er Rangers, Go

Why not the Cubs? Please, why not the Cubs? They were amazing in 1969-I have the autographed baseball. Amazing that is, until the laughable Mets came steamrolling along to crush every team in its wake.

Then there was the pennant race in 1984-My sister won a lottery for tickets, so I skipped vet school to go to San Diego to watch them dump it in the last two games. The Curse of the Billy Goat reared its ugly head, I guess. The ’89 team was pretty good, too.  The last team to ‘do good’ was in the ’03 against the fish. We had tix for a BB King concert in Fort Fun, and it was the same night as the seventh game of the pennant race. Earl took a friend. I missed BB King for nothing. Figures.

The Sox have faired a little better. I can still recount the starting lineup of the ’59 “Go Go Sox.” And, they won, repeat won the world series in ’05. My cousin, Gail, sent me all the Chicago Tribune papers about the win. Chicagoans do know how to celebrate.

So here I am in the Republic of Texas. My first fall here, and what do you know! The Rangers took the American League pennant. Woo-hoo! A real live baseball team. I think law professors should have a heart about the coming World Series, and postpone all studying while games are televised.

One of my classmates early in the year before I knew what a great guy he is proclaimed the Rangers were, in this Christian country, ordained by G-d to be America’s team. Thinking about my beloved North Siders, I could only think, “and Jesus wept.” Sheesh! The man was right, the team formerly owned by “W” is now the AL champs. “W” shoulda kept his real job, I’m talking about what he did best-own a baseball club.

I will look forward to watching the World Series, albeit with a wistful attitude, vicariously rooting for the Cubs. Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven. Meantime, sing along, yall. The anthem we love.

Ah well, wait ’til next year.

Today in Ask Frank

Franklin recounts the disappearance of Matthew.

Agree to disagree

The other day I posted on my Facebook page that I was thrilled that the AVMA responded to an email inquiry about my possibly doing an externship there in summer 2011. It doesn’t have summer programs for law students, just vet students in DC doing governmental relations work.

My friend just graduated from law school here, and took her dream job in DC with an animal rights group which I respect, but do not support. My friend posted to my FB page about possible working for an organization that supports gassing animals. I wrote her a letter:

“Without studying the entire issue and reading available literature done with careful study, one can raise the issue not with a knowledgeable approach, but rather an inflammatory approach designed to take the audience to one side of the issue. I do not condone all the methods AVMA does, even if it conditionally approves them. But we have to study the entire issue, make changes where we can so the animals that must die are put down  humanely. I wouldn’t even think of giving a lethal injection of pentobarbitol to a cat unless it is placed under anesthesia first. I made this decision 22 years ago. When Tipper was PTS from her cancer, ten days before Earl died, she was placed under general anesthesia first. My friend had a difficult time of doing the best method, and Tip didn’t die right instantly, but she was asleep.

Whoever wrote what you put on my FB page, did so for inflammatory purposes without understanding of the report if, indeed, she even carefully read it. This is why the ‘humaniacs’ drive me nuts. Gas chambers WERE used, but that was in the 60s. They weren’t even gas chambers, but decompression chambers that literally sucked the life out of unwanted pets. My mother surrendered our cats to Orphans of the Storm in 1964 due to my sister’s asthma. I had nightmares of Charlie Brown being put into a box to die. Things have come a long way since then. Animal humane treatment is advancing, not retreating.

One needs to go after those who make profits off of fur animals, such as mink farmers, who do electrocute or ‘gas’ the creatures solely for their fur. Their meat is fed to other carnivores which, in turn, are fed back to the mink. People do wear fur. I can’t bear to look at a fur coat.

Think about the Koreans who sell dogs at market as livestock under nasty conditions. They are electrocuted or beaten to death, then butchered. Bottom line, while disgusting to us, it is their culture. Some things we just cannot change. That in America, we can. Greenpeace can take over the poaching of the seas for illegal tuna netting; finning of sharks and putting them back in the water to drown so Japanese can make soup; and drowning dolphins that are caught in the tuna nets. I support that-they are illegal activities. We change the things we can, and try to change that which we can’t.

Other social issues arise, such as the local custom of illegally clubbing of baby harp seals. While gross and disgusting, it is how native peoples survive. There is no way I can say anything to rationalize the brutalization of innocent babies. The Inuits who are allowed to hunt whales. That’s all the meat they eat and sell (oil.) I don’t like it at all, but I’m not living where the sun doesn’t shine. American Indians are the only group allowed to possess eagle feathers, which are used ceremonially. Anyone else would be arrested for possession.

The AVMA puts out an annual euthanasia report. Take T-61 euthanasia solution. It is by far the worst thing I’ve seen. It isn’t even on the market any more in the US. to my knowledge. However, when a horse is under anesthesia, say in surgery, as happened in 1988 when T-61 was still used and I was the anesthesiologist on duty at CSU, it was a humane thing, as the horse was unconscious. When my little mare, Franny, was euthanized at CSU, she wasn’t anesthetized first. The student cranked her head so she would be still while I put the pentobarbitol in her. I didn’t like that picture. When our dear Marcie had cancer of the tongue at thirty, and we took her to CSU 9 years later after Franny’s death, Marcie was anesthetized in a padded induction stall, the same stall Franny was in, then I gave her the solution. It was quiet and peaceful. She was already down when she died, whereas Franny collapsed to the ground in the throes of death. It is disturbing to watch any horse going down, even for minor surgery.

Were I to be fortunate enough go to AVMA as a legal policy specialist, that would not preclude me from advocating humane treatment of animals that do have to be PTS. It is a mission of the organization to better the treatment of animals. We all took an oath at graduation to treat animals humanely even upon their deaths. My feeling is as yours, neuter animals, adopt them out, and design humane ways to go to slaughter for food supply animals, as Dr. Temple Grandin of CSU had done. You never did tell me why you didn’t like her talk. Her entire life has been devoted to animal welfare, even of those animals on their way to slaughter.

Bottom line, there are local customs, millions of unwanted animals, puppy mills that foster bad breeding and keep pet animals in abhorrent conditions, and much much more.

What disturbed me when I was on necropsy rotation in school was the pathologist bringing a calf into necropsy, attaching electrodes to lip and anus, and just plugging the wire into a wall socket like a lamp. Horrible to watch, yes. Instantaneous death, yes.

We can talk about this if you like. I would ask you to email me instead of posting on my Facebook, OK? Just because I’m interested in a position, doesn’t mean that I would be making the lives of animals worse.

Last weekend was the fall meeting and dinner of Morris Animal Foundation in Dallas with Betty White there. I couldn’t go, slammed with work. Research that organization. No animal is ever euthanized unless it is for the sake of pathological samples. There even is a program for adoption. ALL animals used in studies that are not euthanized for study purposes, a small % of subjects, are adopted. Feel free to email the president and CEO, my friend and former professor, Dr. Patty Olson, polson@morrisanimalfoundation.org. Tell her we are friends and what you do for a living. She would talk to you. She also travels a lot, and even spent a year in DC as an AVMA Congressional Fellow.

When in doubt, call the AVMA and ask for a meeting. They don’t try to cover their tracks, they merely collate information and make recommendations. They themselves don’t condone bad things that are done, they try to make it better. If they can-great. If they can’t, at least they have tried by careful studies and reports. PETA, while their heart is in the right place with regard to animal welfare, is an extreme organization that has done some pretty detrimental things to animals themselves. You are now in a position to make things better within the scope of your new legal position.

We can agree to disagree on some issues, but let’s do it on the phone, or by emails. Not on Facebook.

Take care, my friend.

I will note that my wonderful, passionate friend, when hearing of Earl’s death, emailed me “whatever you need just say it, and I will jump on a plane.” She was doing her 2L externship in Houston, and we hadn’t met yet. That’s friendship. A good friend goes through good times and bad times with you. While our friendship is relatively new, I cherish it. We share the same passion for animals and their welfare, just in different ways. Go get ‘em, kid!

Today in Ask Frank

Franklin shares some thoughts on family.

Ten plus ten

In my new role as a new 1L, I do manage to do other things than study law. They are law-related, but fun for me.
I recently became published in the Texas Bank Lawyer. To be a member, which I am not yet, one must attend ten meetings and publish ten blurbs for the publication. One of my friends on a message board told me it was quite something to have written on to a journal after the second week of school. It didn’t dawn on me that it was one of my school’s publications until I read the issue when my blurb was published. Duh. I just finished another one. I will have to revise it for sure, but if it is published, it will make me 6 and 2 for meetings and blurbs. I enjoy the technical writing. Thursday after my class ended at 5, I didn’t feel like going home yet, nor studying, so I worked on the blurb. Am I an expert in banking law, absolutely not. Do I have several checking accounts? Certainly, even a joint one with my sister using my money so she can care for Scoot and Hannah in Arizona.
The younger students are amazed by how much fun I think law school is. I thought for sure I would fail (one doesn’t have a clue until the one final exam at the end of the semester; and even then you don’t get grades until well into spring semester after tuition has been paid.)
After taking a practice midterm Thursday night on impulse-get ‘er done- I felt after looking at answers the professor gave to review, that I would certainly pass. Some of the examples were dreadful. I like to write, and 35% of the grade on the 8 hour take home final is on a polished paper. If I got full credit on writing style, this would leave room for being a dummy on content.
The midterm told me I could do it, and while I didn’t think I could apply the rules to the hypothetical, I did, and had fun doing it. Fun on a test, now that’s nutty. I do have that t-shirt that says, “What if there were no hypothetical questions”?
I talked about Sr. Lopez a while back. He’s the gentleman who cleans the library on weekends. I saw him yesterday. We always chat in Spanish. He makes my day. Here’s a guy, going about his business making the building clean, being proud of his work, and taking time to chat with students while respecting that we are working hard. He doesn’t bother those with their noses in books. If our eyes meet, we say hello and chat in a whisper. He puts up with my Spanglish.
I did join the Hispanic Law Students’ Association. I have not a drop of Latin blood in me. However, I tremendously respect the work the organization does, especially the boot camp put on before orientation. I will help next fall.
So Sr. Lopez is one of my heroes. My absolute hero at the law school is not a lawyer, either. Dr. Natalie Tarenko, whom I have written about before, if not here, then on the message board where I get my good advice, is the writing specialist for the law school. She is truly passionate about her work. Some of the students balk at re-learning high school grammar and punctuation, but it is crucial for legal writing, which is a whole different writing animal, pun intended. I am comma-impaired, but I have learned in law school when in doubt, stick in a comma,,,,, Dr. Tarenko is busy doing workshops for the students as she did for us summer entry students. I tell everyone I can to attend every one.
Dr. Tarenko actually reads this blog. She surprised me when I was dropping off my latest blurb for the Texas Bank Lawyer publication of the school, when she talked about my entry titled, Is Everything in Texas Fried? She only has positive things to say. Blog writing is not perfectly crafted, but she takes her busy time to read it. So, Dr. Tarenko, you made my day Friday, just as Mr. Lopez makes my day on Saturdays.
I can’t forget the other one in my life who makes a difference-Kitty Matthew. I wrote earlier how we had a deal about the office. He does not bother me while I am at the desk, and I provide a kitty cup outside the door. Usually I find him dead center in the office.
After I finished the practice midterm at midnight Friday, this time in the dining room, I saw Matt curled up on my briefcase. I never knew he was there. Good job, buddy.
Thanks to all who do little things that in reality make my days brighter.

Suspensory movement, hanging cats

During my first semester as an undergraduate physical education major, a required course was entitled, “Basic Body Movement and Rhythms,” or “Basic Bod” as we called it. My father, the doctor, sneered at the content of my courses. It was a wonderful course that included Newton’s three laws of motion allowing me to understand how my field hockey cleats helped me, and a principle called the angle of rebound and spin, which forever improved my pool game.
One lesson was about suspensory motion. It applies to gymnasts, ballet dancers, or anyone or object which is lofted into outer space. In between the upward motion and the downward motion (both related to Sir Isaac Newton, may he rest in peace,) when one gets to the height of the movement, there is a moment in time where the body/object is suspended in the air. That is, for a nanosecond or so, it hangs motionless in air until gravity overcomes the upward force of the movement to pull it back down to earth. In football terms, a punt is supposed to have a long hang time. I always thought that was really cool.
When I play with the boys and their kitty tease, Franklin, who is a very large cat as is his brother Cowboy Joe, is monstrously strong. He has the ability to get his body so high in his maniacal jumps, that when suspended in air somewhat like a furry football, it seems like forever for gravity to overtake his jump. Frank has a long hang time. Joe does too, and both of them do some marvelous gymnastic moves that I never achieved as a gymnast way back when. Matthew just powers through his jumps.
Earl always commented on Frank’s forelimbs, about how buff they were. Frank does work out his guns. His personal workout is repetitiously pawing on closed doors, which are white, thanks, dude, and pulling the full water dish around the cat room.
Matthew goes ape sh*& by running around the house, eventually focusing on one of the twins to beat up. In the former home, he would ask me to go to his room when he was overstimulated, and I would put him in the cat room with the door closed. It worked out well, unless I forgot about him and went about my day. Then I’d have to hear all about it at great length and with much authority.
Cowboy’s personal regime is chasing kitty toy balls, pens and pencils around the house. He runs after the little balls I got the other day as if he can actually catch them, not knowing when he bats the balls, they careen in another direction. The angle of rebound and spin.
Cats and Newtonian physics: the ultimate corollary for the science-nerd vet.

Today in Ask Frank

Franklin discusses how, in my absence, the boys have plenty to do when they are not worn out by all their sleeping. As an aside to what Frank says, I play with the cats before I leave for class for the same reason I’ll put the top down on my happy fun car to drive three whole miles. It’s a mini-vacation that clears the mind and makes me happy and positive. If a student in an intense, serious program of study doesn’t ‘have time’ to feed the birds, play with her cats, or put the top down on the car, what does that do to the emotions? Frank knows I’m doing much better since Earl’s death. I’m really busy, which helps. It also helps to enjoy what’s around me. And there’s plenty to enjoy if you know how to look. Like the time I watched a big snail move along the concrete to get back to the flower garden. There were no snails in the other places I have lived. I watched that shelled unit for about half an hour. Snail watching is fun!

An honest day’s work for an honest buck

I hate holidays in general, the ones where it is this date, so be happy and spend mindlessly, getting others gifts they neither need nor want. I love Labor Day. I heard on the radio that Labor Day was to celebrate the labor unions. Well, this is right wing Texas so OK, do your thing boys.

I was studying in the library yesterday, and I saw my friend, Mr. Lopez, cleaning where my class is assigned to work, in the basement with the spiders. Sr. Lopez and I got to know each other a few weeks ago as I discussed here previously. I tend to be the only one around at times other students are watching football, getting drunk, or whatnot. He came buy with his equipment, and we introduced ourselves and chatted. Mr. Lopez is kind enough to help me converse in Spanish. In fact, that’s only the language he uses with me. I appreciate that so much, as I want my Spanish to improve. Being bilingual, especially in Texas, is essential.

I look forward to seeing Mr. Lopez. He works hard in a job that seems low on the hierarchy of positions from the Dean on down. I always honor those who work hard for an honest dollar. Labor Day is in your honor, Sr. Lopez.

Tu amiga, Mari’a