(Can’t see the video? Watch it on YouTube.)

Every four or five days my dog Mikey escapes some how. I am forever combing the perimeter of the yard looking for soft spots that he can squeeze through. Every time he gets out, I would swear that it was some supernatural force because I was sure I’d plugged all the holes. I’m always wrong. Here’s my latest discovery:

(Can’t see the video? Watch it on YouTube.)

Sneaky little bastard. Funny thing is, he’s not a runner. He’ll gladly walk out to the car unleashed and make no kind of attempt at escape. Rather, he’s a wanderer. If something peaks his interest enough, he’ll go after it, then forget what he’s doing and just walk around looking for more interesting stuff. And, when you find him, he gladly runs back to you.

So, maybe instead of sealing off the fence, I should just exterminate all the local squirrels and cats and he won’t have any ambition left to leave.

(Can’t see the video? Watch it on YouTube)

This video blog references the original post/story here:

http://www.williampetruzzo.com/2010/04/21/an-opportunity-for-life-in-death-please-pray/

… And this is the worst of my injuries. Pardon the blog post containing a big picture of my hairy toe.

I went camping with my girlfriend on Thursday and Friday of this week. When we returned, I was hoisting things into my shed attic when the ladder slipped out from under me. The ladder landed on my foot and I landed on the ladder. But, when the ladder fell I was in the process of putting a 50 – 60lb box of camping gear away. As I was falling, I was certain I hadn’t gotten the box securely put away and that it was going to be tumbling down on top of me any second. The moment I hit the ground, I dove wildly to escape the falling box. But when I finally looked up, the box was perfectly settled where it was.

So, even though disaster struck and I’m limping around until this foot heals, it could have been much worse.

This morning I woke up and immediately thought to myself, “I need to write a blog about this”. The I immediately fell back to sleep.

What I was experiencing was that unbelievably wonderful 20 minutes of sleep-awake-sleep-awake-sleep-awake just before actually waking up for the day. You know that time when you alarm clock goes off, but you don’t have to get up right away, so you hit snooze again. Then you get to enjoy the sensation of laying your head back down on the pillow and drift back to sleep. You know, right before doing it again.

What I found interesting is the ideas that seem good in that stage of cognition. There’s virtually not much to write about the topic, at least not outside of a scientific study of some kind. Yet, for some reason it seemed like good blog material in between snooze alarms.

So, should I have written about it today? Well, probably not.

A few days ago I posted about Lillian, an elderly woman who was widowed late last week after 62 years of marriage.

Unfortunately, Lillian’s mind is flirting with dementia, although she’s not totally gone. Much of the time she is lucid, or at least appears to be to anyone speaking with her. But, since her husband has died, she will not be fit to live alone. In her moments of distress, she is simply in too much danger. So, with no one to look after her, she will have to be moved into a assisted living facility.

As a self-proclaimed, independent woman, she isn’t happy about this transition. But her safety is at stake and unfortunately, her mind isn’t working well enough to make these decisions. She will be required to live where she can get care when she needs it.

Only a few hours after entering the facility where she will undergo a psychiatric evaluation, and possibly where she will be living, I was given directions to take some of her belongings to her. Immediately upon entering, Lillian insisted that I take her home. She proceeded to follow me around, determined not to let me leave without her.

It was at this time that I nearly lost my cool and jumped down facility staff’s throat. You see, Lillian was causing trouble. She didn’t want to comply. So, in an attempt to coerce cooperation out of Lillian, the staff continually lied to her. Not little white lies—bold-faced lies. Lies that couldn’t in any way even be construed as honesty.

“Lillian, just come over here and talk to me. Then we’ll let you go home.”

“Lillian, I promise, I won’t let him leave. Just come talk to me then you can get in his car and go home.”

“Lillian, he didn’t drive here. He walked. He can’t drive home. He’s just going to leave and get his car, then he’ll come back and pick you up so you can go home.”

Lillian is not so gone that she was fooled by any of this. Each time they used the word “home”, I felt like I could see her heart break a little bit. She knew good and well they were lying. Lillian is alone and while she’s not entirely rational, she knows it. With each lie seeking cooperation, I imagine that Lillian must feel how alone she is.

I understand that to be an attendant at a nursing home must be extremely challenging. But when you lie to someone get their cooperation, you not only strip them of the little freedom they have, but you also rob them of their dignity. For these attendants to lie in order to get these elderly patients to comply, completely disrespects these people whom other cultures would hold with the highest esteem—and with good reason.

Because I think companies should be held responsible for their actions, however trivial some people may find them, I will tell you that the nursing facility is called Hartsfield here in Bowie. The facility is nice, but consider carefully whether or not compliance is really worth more than dignity. And for Lillian, please continue to pray. This is likely the most difficult time she has ever experienced—or likely ever will.