When I was ten years old we moved from the city to a leafy green suburb. I missed my old friends but quickly made new ones and I liked my new school. But the very best thing about this move was that I could have a dog!
My dog was so sweet! I loved him and I took him to obedience class and worked with him on basic skills like "sit," "stay," etc. But, while sweet and friendly, he was not at all interested in obedience training. So while he eventually learned a few few basic commands he only obeyed them when it pleased him to do so. That said, he was always a dear companion!
Sometimes when he was lonely at night he would cry. At first I would pick him up and let him stay with me. But I was told that if I did so, he would never learn to sleep through the night, so I made myself ignore his cries. In time he was "trained," but It still makes me sad to think about this.
Later when my sons were born, the "authorities," including no less than Doctor Spock, advised letting babies "cry it out” a bit when putting them down to sleep. And indeed, in time they learned that once they were settled down in bed their sad whimpers would avail them nothing and they would go to sleep. They were "trained." But I never got over feeling guilty about this either.
Today the tables are turned. My children are training me. I’m almost immobilized by the pain of multiple vertebral fractures resulting from the medical mismanagement of the drug Prolia (as described elsewhere on these pages). This, plus the COVID19 epidemic, keeps me quite close to home.
Any reasonable social life -- dinner at a restaurant or a day at the beach with friends or family, or other social get-togethers -- is quite out of the question for both of these reasons.
I live alone, which is fine, but I do like to chat with others occasionally, especially my family. Even a weekly phone call about nothing in particular would be so welcome.
But this only happens sporadically. Everyone has busy lives. That’s how it is and I live with it. My stuffed animals have become my conversation companions, and I live with it. Like my little dog who learned to stay close when walking and to sleep quietly through the night, I’m learning this too! In time I'm sure I'll be trained.
I keep reminding myself: An old lady is not a young beagle or even a human infant. I should be able to take care of myself and not be a nuisance. I do my best. I'm trying hard to be trained!
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