The day my son had his wisdom teeth out I stayed home with him (doctor’s orders) to make sure he didn’t enjoy the after effects of anesthesia and surgery too much. He collapsed on the couch and flipped channels in between spiting into a large plastic cup and changing the gauze pads that made him look a little like a hamster with a mouth packed full of seeds.

He kept asking me “Why? Why does it have to hurt so much dad?”

What could I say? “I don’t know, it’s just the way things are . . . What the hell are you watching anyway?”

“It’s a show about weed. How to smoke it, what to smoke it in and stuff.” he answered.

Jeeze, t.v. has come a long way. We’ve gone from “Ricky, I’m pregnant”  to “Ricky, let’s blaze one up to this shit.”

My son would occasionally ball up his fist and hit a door jamb, the counter top, whatever he was close to. I would check up on him every 20 to 30 minutes and made sure I had my cell phone so he could call me.

I took advantage of the time by doing a lot of yard work, starting with picking up all the dog land mines in the back yard. When you have three dogs over 40 pounds each it doesn’t pay to be lazy. Cosmo had to come out and make sure I wasn’t picking up anything she should roll in first.

You’re not supposed to use the large paper yard sacks for animal waste but I figured there would be enough grass clippings, leaves and other organic things on top that it wouldn’t make much difference. It’s not like I hadn’t cleaned all winter.

By the time I’d mowed, raked, roto-tilled the weeds and planted grass seed I had around 10 sacks full. They probably weighed 40 pounds each. Always looking for an easy out I loaded them 3 at-a-time on top of my self-propelled mower and used it to move them to the curb. I am so smart and so lazy.

A few weeks back I came across several thousand (really) gray feathers in the back yard. It looked like a morning dove had joined the Taliban and blew itself up near the Forsythia bush. There was no body, no head, no blood, just a lot of delicate gray feathers with a few larger striped ones from another bird.

So now I’m in the front yard raking and sweeping up the remnants of the weeds and grass clippings when I hear a very loud and distinctive bird cry. Kind of like what a hawk or eagle might make but sharper and very loud. I look around and see what looks like a Peregrine Falcon sitting on my neighbor’s roof. As soon as I pointed it out to my neighbors, it flew off.

They told me, “You know just the other day we found a decapitated songbird in our front yard and wondered about it.” I didn’t have the heart to tell them I’m a huge Ozzy Osbourne fan.

Last year I’d come upon a redtail hawk who’d just killed and was eating a rabbit. There’s lots of hawks in our neighborhood but this wasn’t one of them. The neighbor thought it looked like a falcon too.

The times when I’ve felt particularly close to God, the universe, whatever you want to call it - has almost always been when I was out in nature. To see a wild animal just living its life has always been a special thing to me. I feel a sense of connectedness. If I hadn’t stayed home that day, worked in the yard or picked that moment to work in the front yard, I would have missed it.

Outside of the surgery, nothing was planned but everything turned out just fine. Staying at home with my son, taking care of him makes me feel closer to him. I think he realizes that more than anyone, I’ve always stood by him, always had his back and never abandoned him. In addition to bonding with my son, I was able to get some exercise & lots of sun light as well as getting a lot done in the yard. There was a nice sense of accomplishment to the whole day. It feels good to get things done.

Later that day I had to go pick up some pain meds at the drug store. It was getting dark when I came home but I noticed that I had apparently backed up over some of the yard bags that were by the curb and dragged them into the street when I had left earlier. It had rained a little that day and in the fading light I could tell that only one was broken open, the rest were just smushed a little. I’d lucked out, or so I thought.

When I’d parked and got closer I could see a giant skid mark. It was about 10 pounds of rotten, wet dog shit smeared half was across the street. God has a sense of humor.

Here’s a list of ten things that signal your black dog is getting better and if not looking for a new home, it’s at least listening when you say, “Come, sit, stay!” Even if you only have one or two on the list, it’s progress. You’re on your way.

1. You have more energy.
2. You sleep better and longer.
3. You find humor and laugh at things again.
4. You find yourself actually enjoying exercise & other activities.
5. You’re more relaxed.
6. You do more with friends/family and are more engaged socially.
7. You take time out for yourself.
8. You look forward to things, e.g. a project, a trip, visiting, etc.
9. Your sex life is back.
10. You say “No.” more and don’t feel guilty.

This entry was posted on Friday, April 25th, 2008 at 8:14 pm and is filed under exercise, family, mindfulness.