Is it time to try to get back to the new normal?

When you're scared of the invisible, the temptation is to stay locked down, inside, in the "safety" of your own home. Except that if you're able, then you have to go and do your own shopping, so that the limited amount of home deliveries are available for those who really need them. It's therefore not possible to stay inside all the time. But for weeks, Hormonal Hannah was too anxious to leave the house, other than to go for a crack-of-dawn walk, so she sent number one furry on the shopping trips. And Bless him, he continues to be the one to do the shopping, while Baggy waits at home. More recently, The Domestic Goddess and Calum have preferred to support the local independent butcher and greengrocer, thus avoiding the supermarket unless absolutely necessary. Then a couple of weeks ago, Calum pointed out to Freda Fretter that Baggy was at just as much risk of infection if he should become infected, because she would catch it from him when he was at home. Weirdly, this obvious truth motivated Hormonal Hannah to be less terrified of the invisible threat. And she allowed Furry Mama to start taking the Pooch out for walks at a civilised hour. 

Now that travel is once again permitted, Pepper Pooch and Hannah, and probably even Calum, have felt considerably less stressed since they've been able to walk on the local beaches.

It's been easy to social distance, as 98% of people seem to be trying hard to follow the rules. It was rather busier yesterday when they went, as it was a hot sunny day, but still people remained "alert".

Indeed, so "alert" was Baggy, that she didn't take any photos! Until she got home to let Gloria Gardener water the garden! The foxgloves are now spectacular.

And Gloria's succulents seem to be happy too.

But, as for many people, the strangeness of this new isolation has been affecting Hannah quite badly in the last week. So in a bid to allay her fears of venturing properly out into the big wide world, today she decided that Grotty Groom should try to get back into her groove!

She'd already been to the yard twice last week, for the first time in over two months. The Boy Wessles was in a bit of a sorry state, clearly irritated by the flies, but probably even more so, by the pollen. So Grotty ordered him a supplement that he'd been on in the past, to try to alleviate his head-shaking symptoms. She took it to the yard last Friday, so that he could start having it in his feed from Saturday. Grotty is delighted to report that today, after just a few days of being on it, the Boy was a different horse! Not once did he try to bash Grotty with his nose to relieve the pain. He was so chilled, that Grotty decided to leave him with his zebra fly-rug off, while she rode Joey. Yes Baggees, you read that correctly, while she rode Joey.

Nothing major, literally a ten-minute walk around the indoor arena, but it was so wonderful to be vaguely back to normal.

That horse is worth his weight in gold, and Grotty is extremely proud of the lad. She's determined to restart the work she was doing pre-lockdown, to get him fit once again.

And, to aim to get back on the Boy Wessles! Because Baggy has stuck with her healthy-living plan, and has now lost over two-and-a-half stones, so is once again a safe weight to ride him. Baggy's not sure that Calum is quite so convinced though.

"I really want to ride Wesley Cal."

"My little adrenaline junky!"

"I'm not! I just miss riding him."

"It's a bit of a leap, from walking Joey, to getting onto your Boy!"

"Rude! Probably true, but still - RUDE!"

But, watch this space Baggees, because as Creative Clara has written on numerous previous occasions: life is too short! And if ever that was in doubt, this current situation would be enough to remind anyone of that fact. Baggy's not getting any younger; Wesley's not getting any younger, in fact he's almost caught up with Baggy, as he'll be nineteen this autumn (so he's the human equivalent of being in his late fifties).  So Clever Bird has decided that she will do everything in her power to begin to get back to some semblance of normality. Especially as at present, she's still lucky enough to have number one furry at home with her full time.

Life is for living, even within all the current restrictions...

Stay safe, be kind, live life Baggees!

Baggy's current state!

Depression (Black = really bad/Grey = not great/Blue = okay/Yellow = sunny day): Yellow.

Anxiety (From 1 = barely any to 10 = gibbering wreck standard): 6.
Tears: Some.
Overall days: Positive.

Note to readers: For the avoidance of any doubt, every character in this blog is Baggy! No Baggy was harmed in its writing, although some of them get pretty confused!

Stay safe - Be kind.

Many parts of the world, are now attempting to at least think about returning to some new form of normal. Covid-19 has gone nowhere, but for now at least the number of newly reported cases does not seem to be rising in the United Kingdom. But it's such a terrifying disease, that Clever Bird can't help but think that it probably hasn't yet done its worst. She prays daily, that the scientists will successfully develop a vaccine, sooner rather than later, because the current semi-lockdown situation is just not viable in the long term. And the scenes of stupidity since people in England were told that they may now drive wherever they like to take their exercise, or sunbathe, are beyond belief. Social distancing remains in force, and yet on some beaches and in some parks, it's hardly possible to see the ground between the hoards of idiotic people. And yet this was always going to be the case, whenever the lockdown measures were eased, because as the saying goes, "Stupid is, as stupid does."

But the disease itself, and the need for everyone to stay at home, has caused even people with no previous mental health issues to feel anxious. FOGO, (Fear of going out), has been recognised by the British government, as a "thing", which for people like Hormonal Hannah, whose anxiety or depression can make her not wish to leave her home at the best of times, means that it's not a huge step for lockdown-fear to develop into agoraphobia. 

This was clearly demonstrated a few weeks ago, when the only time that Hannah was prepared to leave the house was at sunrise, so that she could avoid meeting any other humans. Clearly that is not healthy! And although Calum and Furry Mama have discovered quite a few new local walks; so has the rest of the village, and trying to social distance on some of the narrow footpaths is fairly nigh on impossible - especially, as seems to occur frequently, they find themselves on the same footpaths as some of the stupid idiots, who just don't care anyway.

Clever Bird was therefore delighted when the rules changed a week-or-so back, allowing people to drive somewhere to do their exercise. Their latest discovery is a walk on a nature reserve at Blythburgh, just a ten-minute drive from their home. The paths run alongside the estuary, and head off to Walberswick or Dunwich. Not that Baggy, Calum or even Pepper Pooch are currently fit enough to manage that, as they would be between seven and nine-mile walks, but just doing part of it was wonderful.

In all they walked a little under four miles.

And they met six people, none of whom was an idiot!

Only, Hannah is still getting ridiculously anxious! No Baggees, not about being out; not even about encountering other humans, but about how people are behaving. When did the new norm become to be angry and judgmental with everybody? 

Regular Baggees will know that Baggy's only "car" is Billy Bob Jalopy campervan! And since the deer encounter the other evening, currently, he's  Baggy and Calum's only roadworthy "car". Yet, Clever Bird is feeling the need to write a big sign that she can stick in the window, that says,

"This is my only mode of transport; and I live locally!!!"

Why? Because recently, rather than getting friendly waves from fellow Dub-owners, and random people alike, she's more likely to get a raised fist and a swear word!

What's more, since their visit to the beach last Monday, Hannah hasn't wanted to go again. No, that's not true! She's wanted to go every day, but she hasn't been, because people are so busy voicing their opinions on social media about, "If you're one of the people going to the beach, then don't bother clapping for  the NHS," "Go to the beach and cause a second wave," "Stay away from our beaches," that she doesn't feel that she should go and it's really upsetting her! 

Well, Baggy would just like to say that for Hormonal Hannah and people like her, who suffer from clinical depression and anxiety, and for all of those people, who thanks to Covid-19 are developing a FOGO, one of the reasons that the government in England has said that people may now visit beaches and parks, and even sunbathe there if that's what they wish to do, is to prevent people's mental health from deteriorating irreversibly. Not all people are stupid idiots who believe themselves immune to Covid-19, or simply don't care if they catch it because they think they'll be fine; the vast majority of people are in fact taking social distancing measures extremely seriously, because they know exactly how life-threatening this situation truly is. The people who aren't obeying the rules are not going to start doing so, simply because you posted on your social media feed that they're idiots - but the anxiety sufferers who read those posts, will inevitably think that they have done something wrong - it's the nature of the condition! 

Now, more than any situation that Baggy has lived through in her sixty years on this planet, should be a time for understanding and kindness; not one for judging, and making people who are doing their utmost to get through this, feel worse and more scared than they already do. Please be kind to one another Baggees, and accept that unfortunately some people will always do exactly what they wish to do, regardless of the consequences.

Stay safe, but above all, be kind...

Baggy's current state!

Depression (Black = really bad/Grey = not great/Blue = okay/Yellow = sunny day): Yellow.

Anxiety (From 1 = barely any to 10 = gibbering wreck standard): 8.
Tears: Yep.
Overall days: Windy and anxious.

Note to readers: For the avoidance of any doubt, every character in this blog is Baggy! No Baggy was harmed in its writing, although some of them get pretty confused!

Ball control.

Pepper Pooch had a good night, apart from the rumbling noises from his empty, tender stomach, which woke Baggy up at around 5.00am they were so loud. A phone consultation with the vet at 9.30 reassured the vet (and Furry  Mama) enough, that he didn't need to go in for further checks today. Furry Mama has to trickle-feed him for a few days, and he has to take Omeprazole to counteract any acid in his stomach for five days, but then, as long as he doesn't take a turn for the worse, he can get back to normal.

When Furry Mama asked the vet whether she had any clue as to what had caused his sickness, she didn't know, but presumes that it's something he had eaten, possibly when he "got lost" on Saturday. She advised Furry Mama to never let him out of her sight!

"That was so much simpler when I always had a tennis ball with me on walks; he'd never take his eyes off me then!"

"Well you could use a rubber ball. It's the fibres that cause the problem, especially if sand or soil sticks to them."

"I thought it was bad for his mental health though, because he's so obsessed."

"No, not really, and better that than he consumes something else and gets sick again. He reacts so badly to things, that it's a major concern."

So once he's back to normal, Furry Mama will be once again taking a ball on walks - a rubber one. Clever Bird is actually mightily relieved by this, as he gets considerably more exercise chasing a ball. He has put on 4kg in weight during lockdown, since he's not been ball-chasing or on the beach!! This is a massive amount for a dog who did weigh 22kg. No wonder that one thing the blood tests did pick up was that he has elevated cholestoral.

Mind you, so will Baggy if Pepper keeps putting her through these dramas! Last night's comfort-eating was crisps, pork pie, cheese and chocolate digestives; but at least Clever Bird recognised that, that was what she was doing - comfort-eating. 

Today, Furry Mama took the Pooch for a gentle stroll around the lake near the house. He didn't wish to go far, and it was incredibly hot, so when they got home Gloria Gardener pottered in the garden. It's a delight at the moment, as all the foxgloves on the "molehill" on the new bit of garden are beginning to bloom. In a few more days, they should be spectacular.

Better yet, there are lizards living amongst the foxgloves, spending their time on the terracotta pantiles that Creative Clara used to build a little border. Hopefully one day, she'll be fast enough to get a photo of one, before he scuttles off.

Nature is wonderful...

Baggy's current state!

Depression (Black = really bad/Grey = not great/Blue = okay/Yellow = sunny day): Yellow.

Anxiety (From 1 = barely any to 10 = gibbering wreck standard): 4.
Tears: Amazingly not.
Overall days: Hot.

Note to readers: For the avoidance of any doubt, every character in this blog is Baggy! No Baggy was harmed in its writing, although some of them get pretty confused!

Sometimes shit just happens!

After thinking that Pepper Pooch was gone for good when he ran off on Saturday, Furry Mama walked him on the lead on Sunday. But it was so hot that Freda Fretter was a little worried about him. So Clever Bird suggested that now that travel restrictions have been lifted, on Monday, they should get up at dawn, and take him to the beach for a proper run. Calum attempted to wake Baggy at 5.00am. Baggy couldn't get her eyes to function and the early walk plan was abandoned.

It was already 22 degrees Celsius in sunny Suffolk by 11.00am though, and as Pepper seems to react to river water, Furry Mama suggested that maybe they could venture to the seaside anyway. The beach at Cove Hythe is not the easiest to get to, so Clever Bird thought that it might be pretty empty. However, if the tide is in, it's not an option; which they could see was the case as they drove past the inland waterway at Blythburgh.

Plan B: head to Southwold and see whether it was busy. It wasn't. Better yet, the tide appeared to be going out, which meant that they would be able to walk to the beach at Cove Hythe. As the tide was in, to get there does require scrambling over some large coastal defence rocks and then running along the beach for twenty yards at exactly the right moment, but once that mission is accomplished:

Miles of completely empty beach. The Pooch was in his element, as to be honest was Hormonal Hannah, who has seriously missed being by the sea every day, having not been for two months.

The high winter tides have done some major coastal erosion though! There appeared to be a chimney and fireplace in this sea water! 

Walking in the warm sun, contemplating the power of nature, was literally a breath of fresh air and a feeling that the world can return to some new form of changed "normal".

Furry Mama was delighted to be able to let Pepper run free, knowing that he could not get lost, and even though it was pretty hot, knowing that he could cool down in the sea.

Even Hormonal Hannah got in on the act.

In ninety-minutes of walking, they saw only seven other people, and it felt wonderful.

On the way home, Grotty Groom asked whether they could go over to see the horses later that  day, as Pauline had sent some photos of them earlier in the day, and Grotty was missing them so much. 

So after a late lunch and a rest, they headed to see the Boys, also for the first time in two months. Calum and Grotty left Pepper to rest in Billy Bob Jalopy campervan; grabbed their grooming kits, and headed to the paddocks. After an initial, "bottom-turning" by Wesley to Grotty, to demonstrate his displeasure at her absence, he gave in to his better judgement and trotted across the field towards her, whilst whickering.

Hormonal Hannah got upset when she realised just how tangled Wesley's mane was. No surprise, as the horses are living out, and Grotty hasn't been there to groom them. But still!

It took an age to get them out, and he lost a mass of mane in the process.

As Grotty groomed, all Furry Mama could hear was Pepper Pooch getting more-and-more hysterical, barking and whining. As Grotty was struggling to sort Wesley out, she put his bridle-headcollar on him to try to hold him still, but he was clearly very irritated by the flies (and probably the pollen). He threw his head violently - constantly trying to rub his nose on Grotty's arm, bashing Baggy in the process with the metal side pieces of his bit.

Grotty sent Calum off to see if he could find a fly mask, and asked him to bring Pepper out to the paddocks, as by now he was clearly distressed, and Joey was fully groomed, having stood still like a poppet!

Grotty eventually managed to get some plaits in, as Pepper lay  in the grass by Joey's paddock, and Calum held Wesley still and rubbed the Boy's itchy nostrils.

As there were no fly masks (Hormonal Hannah had a vague  recollection that the horses had trashed them last year), Grotty went off to find a fly rug for him. She could only find his waterproof one, but Grotty decided that it was better than nothing.

He seemed to approve of it anyway.

On the way home, they did a little detour to put some flowers on Calum's mum's grave. Pepper Pooch amused himself by eating grass.

Home at around seven, Calum started to cook supper, and sent Baggy out to cut some fresh rosemary. As Baggy approached the bush, Furry Mama was concerned to find Pepper eating yet more grass, while standing next to two large piles of vomit. She took the lad back  inside with her, but he seemed extremely unsettled. He went out, and was promptly violently sick. Furry Mama decided to call the vets emergency service at 7.45. After a chat, the vet asked them to bring Pepper over for 9.30pm as they had "another" emergency to deal with first. Before they set off at 8.45, Pepper had been sick a further three times, and was drooling and constantly gagging.

On the way there, Hormonal Hannah was getting extremely emotional.

"Cal, I just want to try to explain how my anxiety works. I know it's not logical, but I think it's my fault that Pepper is ill."
"Why?"
"Because my brain is a constant running commentary that we shouldn't have gone to the beach or to see the horses. We should have stayed home and none of this would have happened. I know it's probably not true, but that's how I feel! But after losing Pepper on Saturday, and him being poorly with his leg and ear and everything, I just wanted him to feel like he wasn't in trouble. And the horses don't understand why we have deserted them either; so now it's okay to go I just wanted to go, but maybe I was wrong, and this is all my fault."
"Well it isn't! Sometimes, shit just happens!"

As Baggy turned her head to look at Calum to thank him for listening, a massive female fallow deer appeared from nowhere! In a millisecond as Calum braked, the deer had hit the front of the car, and Furry Mama felt sick as she watched its underbelly fly up into the air with its legs facing the sky before vanishing from view.

Furry Mama burst into hysterical sobs as Calum carried on driving. As she continued to cry, Calum reached across to hold Baggy's hand.

"Do you think it survived?"
"I should very much doubt it. But I daren't stop to check, in case the car won't start again, and we have to get Pepper to the vets."

While they waited for Pepper to be taken into the surgery, Calum checked the car. The front radiator panel was smashed. The side panels were bent in under the warped bonnet. The poor Volvo, who was the bargain buy of the century, was definitely a right off.

As Pepper was in the vets, being given a blood test to check for salt poisoning, Baggy and Calum sat in the poor car and talked, realising just how lucky they were not to have been seriously injured or worse.

"I know I'm selfish, but I'm really glad you ignored me and we didn't come in Billy Bob."
"So am I! If we had, he would definitely have been written off. And there's one thing about Volvos, they are built for situations like this. If we'd been in Billy Bob, that deer would have come straight through the front of him."

An already extremely distressed Hannah decided not to dwell on that thought.

At 10.45, Pepper was given an injection to stop him from feeling sick, and they were told that he could go home, as he'd be less stressed there. Calum was relieved when the car started. On the way past the incident spot, they tried desperately to see whether there was any sign of the deer so that they could see if it needed help, but they could see nothing in the dark.

They got home safely by 11.30pm. But Pepper was far from okay - constantly, drooling and gagging, so Furry Mama stayed up with him, while Cal went to bed. At 3.00am Pepper took himself upstairs, so Baggy joined him. But he wouldn't settle, and Furry Mama was up and down with him until 4.00am when he finally fell asleep. Baggy fell asleep at about 5.00, having at least had the joy of listening to a nightingale launch the dawn chorus.

This morning, Pepper was still drooling and gagging, and Fred Fretter couldn't relax. Furry Mama decided to phone the day vet. They wanted him straight back in again. At 9.30am they dropped Pepper off and were told that he would need x-rays as they suspected a blockage, but if that wasn't the case, then he may have been poisoned!

It's been a long day! To distract themselves, Calum and Baggy went and bought the week's supplies from the butcher and greengrocer. Grotty bought Wesley a fly mask and before going home, they popped to the yard, so that Grotty could swap Wesley's waterproof rug for a cooler one, and put his new mask on.

It might look daft, and Clever Bird bought the girly pink one accidentally, but he seemed grateful regardless.

At 3.00pm Furry Mama had a call from the vet to say that there was no obvious blockage in Pepper's gut, and that there was no obvious indication of toxins in his blood. Phew! They were going to put him on an intravenous drip and give him antiinflammatory drugs to see whether he improved, as he was still in distress. They would call later. At 4.30 Baggy couldn't take anymore and decided to go for a lie down. Calum woke her at 5.45 to say that Pepper was considerably better, and that they could go and collect him at 6.30. 

He's home with them now - tired, whimpery, and very unsure of himself, but not drooling or gagging, so Furry Mama is hopeful that he'll have a good night, and will not need to return to the vet again tomorrow.

Now Hormonal Hannah just needs to get over the thought that it was her fault that the deer died, as she had started to think it wasn't her fault that Pepper was ill.

Sometimes, shit just happens...

Baggy's current state!

Depression (Black = really bad/Grey = not great/Blue = okay/Yellow = sunny day): Yellow.

Anxiety (From 1 = barely any to 10 = gibbering wreck standard): 8 - warranted though.
Tears: Justifiable ones in droves.
Overall days: Extremely up and down.

Note to readers: For the avoidance of any doubt, every character in this blog is Baggy! No Baggy was harmed in its writing, although some of them get pretty confused!