by Dr. David Fialkoff, Editor / Publisher

Things got messy. The dog had been sick for a while, with a weeping swelling of one side of her mammaries. Veronica (whose mother is a professional seamstress) made some special clothes to support that area, positioning inside that complicated sock-like apparatus (that went over the tail and crossed across the chest) a sanitary napkin to catch the considerable drippage, an imperfect arrangement at best.

While Veronica was away at a conference in Colombia I assumed the role of dog-sitter and nurse for 24 days during which time the dog's condition worsened: the swelling grew and her teats hung down. Canela was a good dog, but naturally enough wanted to lick the region, which had already lost patches of skin. As instructed, I used the plastic cone collar to prevent her from doing so both at night and during the day when I stripped her down to let the sun shine on the wound. But, as you may remember, last summer was cool and cloudy for weeks at a time.

Near the end of my 24 days, after some consultation with Veronica and her friend Yasna, Canela's other owner, who was away in Chile for six months, and a veterinarian friend of the women who had been involved, it was decided that we, that is, I, should consult with the doctors at Pet Vet.

There Canela and I met with Dr. Alma, who while doing a physical exam came across hard swollen glands, diagnosed mastitis, and, after some bloodwork, scheduled surgery. This we arranged for the morning of the day that Veronica returned from Colombia so that she could function as primary caretaker.

The surgery went well. I moved back home, but came by frequently to help, especially as Veronica walks with two canes. Canela remained in high spirits as always. She was much more comfortable. But, over the course of the next few weeks, as it was obvious that she wasn't as strong as before, we suspected that the mammary tumors had been cancerous, and that the cancer had spread.

Then, it was my turn to travel, to New Orleans for a month, with Yasna returning a few days after I left. I remember saying goodbye to that very good dog, whose nobility strangers on the street would stop to admire. I knew that it would likely be our final parting. And so it was, the decision being made, with many tears on the part of the ladies, to let her go while I was away.

The good news in all of this, the sun shining strongly through breaks in the summer clouds was the vet, Dr. Alma. After receiving payment for the surgery (which Yasna crowdfunded through friends), Dr. Alma did not charge for anything, except the medications that were tried. There was no billing for the numerous visits after the surgery, to remove the stitches, and to monitor Canela's status, soon declining.

During one of those visits before I went to New Orleans, Dr. Alma advised Veronica that she was leaving on her annual 10-day vacation, the only time she took off all year, but that she would still be available by message or phone. When I remarked on her devotion to her practice, she confessed that she worked so hard that she had exhausted her adrenal glands, and was now dependent on pharmaceuticals to maintain an approximation of normality in that regard.

I'm familiar with stress hormones myself. They are responsible for the "second wind," when tiredness disappears and energy returns. Why only yesterday...

It was Saturday and I hadn't had a full night's sleep for two or three days. I have no trouble falling asleep, but even when I go late to bed, I have trouble sleeping in. With three weekly newsletters, and so three deadlines every week, I am regularly under pressure. And even though, especially with ChatGPT helping with the routine tasks, I am working smarter, I'm still regularly up at it past midnight. Yesterday afternoon, I could easily have taken a nap, but when I came home from the Saturday Market I got to work and stayed there until it was time to go to the art walk at the Fábrica de Aurora.

The art walk is one of my very few social outings each month. Yet even it is work related, as I'm always recruiting authors. (Yesterday, I made some good connections.) Setting out for the art walk, I comforted myself that the newsletter was almost ready to publish, and that I would get to bed at a decent hour.

And such would have been the case, except that there was a last-minute change in line-up. While I was schmoozing at the art walk, my star author, Philip Gambone, whom I have published 80 times, unexpectedly, on the off week of our every other week schedule, emailed me his 81st article (A More Spacious View), and this one was different:

How could I refuse? I asked for it, albeit two years ago, and now I had it. I got to work: produced the article, in English as provided, and in ChatGPT's Spanish, sent both versions to Phil for his review, wrote an apology to the author whose article was getting bumped, and set about excising that bumped article and inserting Phil's in its stead to and from the already prepared newsletter and magazine table of contents.

The bumped author was very gracious, and Phil charmingly responded:

I have a friend, Roger Kiraly, who, many years ago, when he was under 25-years-old, was voted one of the top four classical music composers in the U.S. under the age of 25. Not so long ago, but still more than three decades past, when my daughter was a little girl, we went to visit Roger and his wife Lois. That visit, Roger, who is not Native American (Lois is), but who makes ceremonial rattles for leading Indians, played for us some music on a Native American flute. After a few pieces, I asked him to play Mary Had a Little Lamb, which, without a moment's thought, he did. After which he told me, "That wasn't so easy because this flute has an entirely different scale of notes."

This morning, Susan Page, of SM Writer's Conference fame, who is also one of my star authors, after getting today's newsletter, very kindly wrote me an email:

Years ago, when I complained to my already adult daughter about how much I work publishing, she responded, "But you said that you like what you do?" When I confirmed that to be the case, she just shrugged her shoulders, expressing the limit of her empathy in the matter.

Sometimes this publishing gig does get a bit messy, like taking care of a good old dog in need, or playing Western octaves on an Indian flute. But I hope that I too make it look easy, and that the satisfactions, the good hormones rewarding me for a job well done, balance out the second winds that are sometimes involved in getting it done.

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Dr. David Fialkoff presents Lokkal, public internet, building community, strengthening the local economy. If you can, please do contribute content, or your hard-earned cash, to support Lokkal, SMA's Voice. Use the orange, Paypal donate button below. Thank you.

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