full frontal adventure

You do not have to dig very deep in this blog to discover that my primary reason for coming to Mexico was to have an adventure.


I am not here for the weather, the culture, or the perople. Of course, they all matter.


I am here, in the odd syntax I chose in an earlier post: "To wake up every morning and not know how I am going to get through the day."


If that is the criterion for adventure, today was an "A." If figuring out how to overcome issues is the criterion, today was an "F."


You all know the big issue of the week: Jiggs is quickly failing. He made it through Monday night, but he was still unwiling to eat and he did not want to go out for a businewss walk.


I eventually persuaded him that if he went out the gate, the walk would be short. Within a few steps, I discovered what I needed to know: his kidneys and bowels were still operating.


When we came back, I discovered that output may be working, but input was a problem. No matter what I did with his food, he would not eat it.


Monday, he refused to eat bread -- his favorite treat. I tried a bit; he ate it. He ate some cheese. But he reused to eat his dry dog food.


Thinking it was the consistency of the dry food, I dipped a few morsels in his water. He ate them. So, I put a little water on the food, thinking it was too rough.


He would not eat it. I tried a few bits in my hand. He gobbled the food. We went on like that until he had eaten the full dish of food.


Why this odd behavior? No idea. But I do know that two concerns were resolved.


The bigger concern was having him seen by a veterinarian. He needs another cortisone shot.


There is a veterinarian with a small office in town, whose main office is a half-hour drive away. He advertises on his local door: "English spoken."


I have never found the verterinarian to be in -- even though his assistant keeps promising he will be there at certain times. I should point out the assistant speaks only Spanish. That is to be expected; this is, after all, Mexico.


Thge veterinarian has a cell phone number on the office door. But if you call, you get a recording -- once again, in Spanish only.


From what I understand, the veterinarian speaks Engluish -- and he markets that skill. The problem is that unless you can speak Spanish, you cannot get to the veterinarian.


I will admit to feeling a bit frustrated. I was already a bit raw emotionally from what Jiggs is going through -- and the attendant lack of sleep.


The woman who owms the house where I am staying suggested that I go back to the office and ask the assistant to get the veterinarian on the telephone.


I should have thought of that. It's the old "put-your-superior-on line" approach we have all used with recalcitrant customer service school dropouts.


There may be very little that a veterinarian can do for Jiggs. I just need to hear that.


But I also need to have some plan for what I will do when the inevitable occurs.


And that will be my task on Wednesday.