Thumbing A Ride To PT

Argyle Bow Tie o’ the Day is another of my wood bow ties which attaches to a shirt with a magnet. Bow Tie’s magnet makes it a perfect choice for a collar-less shirt of any ilk. Bow Tie and I spent a couple of hours at physical therapy this morning, and my thumb accompanied us. It photobombed us. My Thumb o’ the Day is now on the website in this photo and is, therefore, a star.

A few of the routines I am assigned to perform at PT require me to use a long stick, resembling a cane. It is wood, and it’s about the same length and diameter as a cane. The staff calls it “the wand.” I have been working out my shoulder with it for about a month now, and none of the million spells I’ve cast with it have come to pass. Even Harry Potter couldn’t make this wand work. Hey, it’s a piece o’ wood! But still, I try. I cast my spells and hope.

Sometimes “the wand” inspires my spirit, prodding me to jump off my therapy table and dance with it as my cane– like Gene Kelly in the old movies. Or I want to tap dance with it as my prop as if I’m on a vaudeville stage. Yes, I’ve cast a spell to make those things occur, but that spell hasn’t worked either. So far, I’ve remained an old dame awkwardly pushing and pulling and pointing a stick in various directions.

I do admit that although my rotator cuff still hurts, it’s not debilitating like it was. Miracle? Hard work? Spell? Maybe a wee bit less pain is the biggest spell I can make the wand perform for me. I’ll gladly take it.

It’s An Ugly Mess

The hairs on my noggin are now eight months old. We’re in some kind of almost-final stretch. We’re at least over the hump on our way to my “grown-out” fur. The way my hairs are these days, it looks like a massacre took place right atop my head. I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.

Bow Tie o’ the Day is bravely lending a hand to brighten up the hairs situation with its sequins. At least, Bow Tie’s trying to make things appear better. The only thing that really has any sorta beautifying effect on my fur through all of this is to wear hats and bandanas, of which I have plenty.

I made a decision. Hear me clearly: I will suffer through this terrifyingly hairy growth until May, and then it’s gone. That will make it a year since my last haircut. That’s all you get to see: a year more hair than I’ve had for a decade. Of course, I’ll try a couple o’ different hairdos before I chop it all off again. Those oughta be hilarious for you to see.