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  • Writer's picturecocodensmore

So that's the story.


June 28, 2024


Interesting morning.


Smoky, with the cone on, got stuck under the bed. It’s not a hard plastic cone, it’s softer and flexible so I didn’t think he could get stuck. But he’d crawled up inside the box springs through a hole in the cover, so he was stuck good. I could not lift the mattress myself, man I tried. But I could not do it.


Luckily, I have never been one to be afraid to ask for help. I started knocking on doors. I started with the men. One man I knew, one I didn’t, but neither of them answered. I went down the other end of the hall to a woman I’ve spoken with a few times in passing. She’s about my age and had complained once about chemo brain.


“It’s real, don’t ever think it’s not,” she admonished me as we rode up in the elevator a few weeks back. “It’s really horrible, really horrible.” My heart hurt for her.


I didn’t think it was kind to ask for her help, but we’re talking about Smoky here. Smoky deserves every opportunity for a stress-free pain-free life. I override my reluctance and knocked on her door. I also knew her girlfriend was over, because her girlfriend’s dog has a bell on his collar. It’s a happy tinkling bell, not at all annoying, and to top it off, a very nice happy dog. I hear him passing by in the hall just now, and I smile at the memory of petting him as his happy tail wagged his entire body.


Wasting no time at all, the women were in my apartment, and we negotiated the logistics of lifting the heavy mattress off the box springs in my very small room. It took all three of us. Smoky is shy around strangers, hell, he freaks and hides. Getting him out was not easy. We had to cut the box spring cover off to free him, and he promptly ran out and under the bed in the other room. I’m not so concerned there, because I know he won’t get stuck under that box springs. (Coco said confidently.) He’s still under there, but I know he’ll come out in just a little while. I don’t think he can get stuck under my bed again, but I’ll keep him out of my room for the next several weeks while he has the cone on.

So that’s the story.


Now, I’m reading about the debate last night. I could not be more disheartened. And frightened. But I have to trust that voters will do the right thing. And if they opt against democracy come election day, I’ll have to readjust my expectations downward. And that will be a sad thing indeed.



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