Today Dad says he feels "weird" and "goofy" and that he doesn't know what he is doing. I tell him the doctor is trying a new medication, and that might be the reason for his weirdness. I don't want to argue about whether or not Dad needs an antidepressant/appetite stimulant. Dad does grin when I tell him the facility will probably bill me for the damage he is doing when he smashes into the wall.
I'd like to nail a tail on the back of Dad's wheelchair so he would feel more like cavorting, or popping wheelies. In fact, I saw a lovely orange-brown tail in the parking lot of the condos just the other day. When I got home from my visit with Dad and a side trip for groceries I met the rightful owner of that tail. Hauling the bags out of the car trunk, I caught sight of a little orange person standing straight up with his hand on his hip glaring at me. Slowly my brain did the "what's wrong with this picture?" That tiny orange person was a squirrel with no tail, and not much fear either.
© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder