RACCOON POOP

Every so often our resident raccoon, (or one of his 300 Florida relatives), stops by our pool to have dinner and a poop. Raccoons are known to wash their food before consumption so our pool is the perfect dining spot. Our neighbors have various fruit trees where our masked marauders gather their dinner. They carry it to our yard, sit by the edge of the pool and dine in comfort. After which the old saying of, "What goes in must come out" takes effect. Little Rocky raccoon then meanders over to the other side of the pool where he squats and dumps, sometimes on the edge of the pool, sometimes IN the pool. To which I say, "EWWWWWWW, GROSS!".  I can tell you it isn't easy scooping raccoon poop from the pool.

And why do I mention this whole gross event? Well, poop seems to be a BIG thing in our lives these days. Between toilet training for the younger grand sons and Grand pa wearing protective covering I am consumed by poop. It's the topic on every ones mind. Smith seems to have finally come to terms with his poop issues.  Finn is still a work in progress but getting very good at making it to the potty in time and Husband, well lets just say the poor guy has issues.

When it comes to this most natural of bodily functions everyone has their comfort zone. A newspaper and a cup of coffee, only after eating, morning and night, regular as clock work or random as when ever the mood strikes you. It's a personal thing that once you are taken out of your comfort zone becomes AN ISSUE !  Some folks I know can't poop in public places, others can't stop pooping no matter where they are. But I guarantee you that once you enter a hospital all power of poop leaves you completely. And hospitals will NOT let you go home until you GO! First they screw up your system with their surgery, diet and irregular sleep pattern and then they tell you to poop. I speak from personal experience IT DOES NOT HAPPEN!  It's like telling you to sneeze on command. NOT !  So take all this history of poop and consider what H is now going through. He has not been out of bed in weeks.  His body is shutting down in so many ways, he is not eating and barely drinking BUT . . . Everyone wants him to poop! This is a very private guy we are talking about. Things like this were NEVER discussed in our many years of marriage and now he is supposed to go on demand in front of the entire staff of Palm Beach Hospice. Once again I say, "It's NOT happening!". Yet everyone continues to ask,"Has he 'gone' yet? When was the last time he 'went?'". I can tell them right now it's not going to happen if he can help it. After all,  could you poop laying down? I don't think I could. Not even with a belly full of nasty liquids meant to make you go. Poor Husband! He keeps pointing to the bathroom and I keep repeating that he isn't strong enough and he can't get up. He then either gets pissed off at me to stop telling him this or he gets a sad yet pained expression that tells me he knows he can't get up but he REALLY REALLY wants to. It's pitiful and painful to watch and frustrating as Hell for both of us.

Maybe I should take him out to sit by the side of the pool . . .

WHEN YOU LOOSE A SPOUSE IN FLORIDA

Florida is a weird state at times.  Lost spouses are a specialty down here. They are often reported as lost on a huge sign flashing over the six lanes of the highway.
Oh, did you think I meant "LOST" as in deceased?  Sorry, I'm talking lost as in among the missing. I personally hate the term "lost" when referring to a person who has died, as in, "I lost my husband last year." Well why the hell have you waited so long to look for him???  I'm preparing a list of responses for anyone who tells me they are, So sorry for my loss. I could say things like, "HUH? Did I loose something? or I'm not lost, are you? or OH MY GOD, did they loose my husband's body?"

The word lost means missing, misappeared (as Smith would say), gone from your sight . . .  When a person dies they are NOT lost. Sure they are gone but we usually know where to find their bodily remains. Lost is when you have no idea where they are. I realize that does happen on occasion but for the most part we usually do know exactly where they are because we have chosen to put them there. As for their soul, well that's a whole other blog.

So back to being LOST in Florida.  I was out the other day driving like a true Florida maniac doing 80 on I 95 when I saw the over head traffic sign flashing that old familiar message, SILVER ALERT.
 Translation: some poor old senior citizen has escaped in his/her car and the family is in a panic to find them.  Personally I would just let them go and see where then wind up. That would really be much more interesting. In fact it could be the premise of a new reality show. Go to the dementia ward of the local nursing home and leave a set of car keys on someones night stand with a picture of the car that the keys go to. Sit back and see what happens.  Then again the poor old soul probably wouldn't know what to do with the keys.   Maybe it would work better with a teenager finding the keys and picture in their high school locker.  It has possibilities.

Also, the Silver Alert signs need to get more creative.  Listing the make, model and plate number just isn't enough.  I want to know if I'm looking for a male or female. What color hair, how old and where are they from and where do  you think they may be going.  And give me their name so that if I should find them I can pull up and yell, "Hey Irving, Your wife is looking for you. Pull over!" Maybe they have a good reason to want to go missing. I could take them for a cup of coffee and we could discuss our options before alerting the authorities.

And have you noticed the "missing" persons alerts are always colors. AMBER, SILVER, even though I know Amber was a child's name it is a color.  Maybe we could have Brown Alert for missing dogs and cats, Green Alert for missing Girl and Boy scouts, Purple or Red Alert for missing priest and cardinals. It could just go on and on.  But we are talking Florida so I guess SILVER is about the only color that covers 90% of the population.

I sure hope H behaves himself because I wouldn't want to loose him before he dies.