I wrote this for the “Silhouette” Short Fiction Contest at The Clarity of Night where it earned an Honorable Mention and induction into “The Forties Club.”

The rules are somewhat simple: using a photo as inspiration (which the host, Jason Evans, provides at the start of the contest), contestants write a piece of fiction or poetry using no more than 250 words.

It sounds easy, but the word count leaves very little room for development. The criteria for judging are rather strict, as well, and in the recent field of 237 contestants, there were a lot of excellent entries. It’s amazing how many unique, wonderfully well-told tales emerge from a single point of inspiration in the space of a week.

My entry is loosely based on events that took place during the long illness and death of my beloved dog several years ago. Writing it was a matter of stringing the various moments and happenings together into one very short scene. Perhaps, if I were a filmmaker, it would have been a matter of editing a two-hour film down to a short trailer. Or perhaps the piece is more like a combination of events distilled into one very short dream.

~~~

Offering

The hawks arrived late in the afternoon. Some landed in the yard, but a great cluster of them settled on the wooden fence, close to the house.

Inside, the woman washed the dishes. Her glance alternated between the window and the dog who panted loudly in the adjoining room. He was stretched out in front of the fireplace, his face turned away.

The sound of rushing water and the echoing clatter of dishes was comforting. She heard it at a distance, but the crackling of the fire was very close. She heard herself cough, and that, too, was soothing. The whistling teapot, footsteps, a clatter on the counter, a cabinet door closing, a drawer opening, a gurgle of water. Familiar sounds. Happy sounds.

She held her mug between both hands as she kneeled down next to her dog. She stroked his head gently, and then she leaned over to kiss him. With the tea set aside, she wrapped her arms around him and lay her head on his shoulder. It wouldn’t be long. He turned to her slowly and licked her cheek.

A muffled flutter of wings beat on the other side of the wall. She took up her tea once again, sipped, and got up. She walked to the window and looked down. A dead rabbit was on the ledge. The hawks took flight.

The tears fell. She turned to her dog, and their eyes met for a very long moment. He was still.

My cat Eliot is pretty sick. I’m not sure exactly what’s going on with him but, as a seventeen year-old blind and handicapped four-year stroke survivor with a visual cancer diagnosis six months ago, I’m not hopeful.

It could be an enlarged heart that’s weakened him to the point that he’s barely getting around. It could be pain from the constipation he’s had on and off lately, or it could be pain from the blood clots I suspect he has in his legs. I doubt it’s cancer spreading; I don’t think he has cancer despite how his vet read his X-ray films last time. Whatever it is, he’s seeing his vet tomorrow morning. I hope it’s something simple that I’m overlooking because I can’t afford to spend anything more than, say, what a typical monthly car payment might be. Okay maybe two of those. We’ll see.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to get him to pee on a schedule: when I put him in his box. Otherwise he’ll pee on the rug or in his bed, and I’m getting really tired of scrubbing, shampooing, and running the washing machine.

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If you could reinvent yourself and your life, what would your beautiful new invention be?

Do you think it’s possible to change your life around so drastically that you could call it a new invention? I do.

What would you change? Perhaps you could make some categories:

Activity and busy-ness: would you slow down or speed up? If slowing down, how would you spend your time? If you would prefer to be more engaged, what would you add?

Social: would you change or eliminate some social or familial relationships or add some? Would you change your expectations or how you are social?

Spirituality:are you content with your practice as it is? Or not?

Practical aspects: this could include work and career situations and goals, where and how you live or what your budget is.

General growth: are you doing the things you really want to do and growing in the direction you want to grow?

Many of us will be making resolutions with the coming of the new year, and some of those resolutions are the same as in previous years. Many won’t stick with them. Some are already working on resolutions for improvement. Are they the right ones for you? Have you given some thought to what changes–if any–are really and truly the ones you want to make?

If I could reinvent my life, what would it be? I’m thinking about it.

You can read this article and more on Examiner.com, where I’m the Philadelphia Pet Care Examiner.

This Golden Retriever's swollen lymph node is typical with lymphoma. Photo: Wikipedia

Dog owners are often shocked when they find out their beloved dog has cancer. Many dog lovers think only humans get cancer until they’re faced with bad news, options to consider, and decisions to make. Unfortunately, about one out of three dogs is affected by cancer at some point in his or her life, and cancer is the leading cause of death in dogs over age ten.

The first question most people have when their dog is diagnosed with cancer is, “What should I do?”

Treatment options should always be discussed with the dog’s veterinarian first. Whether or not the dog can or should be treated will depend on several factors:

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You can read this article and more on Examiner.com, where I’m the Philadelphia Pet Care Examiner.

Hans was still acting like a puppy when he was diagnosed with hemangiosarcoma at age 10. Although he received the best of care and lived much longer than vets predicted, he died 18 months later.

Did you know that one out of three dogs will be affected with cancer? And of those, half will die from it?

The National Canine Cancer Foundation is sponsoring a fabulously fun fundraiser for Tweeps and Twitter-fanciers called “Write the Perfect Tweet.”

In 140 characters or less, contestants display their tweeting skills in one of four categories:

1. Write the Perfect Tweet for quitting your job.
2. Write the Perfect Tweet for raising money for canine Cancer.
3. Write the Perfect Tweet for a marriage proposal.
4. Write the Perfect Tweet for telling your kids there is no Santa.

The two-week contest ends July 31, 2009 so there’s still time. Here’s how to  Write the Perfect Tweet.

From the We Are the Cure blog:

“The National Canine Cancer Foundation is a nationwide, contribution funded, non-profit corporation dedicated to eliminating Cancer as a major health problem in dogs by funding grants for the scientific efforts of Cancer researchers who are working to save lives, find a cure, find better treatments, find more accurate, cost effective, diagnostic methods in dealing with Cancer, and diminishing dogs’ suffering from Cancer through research, education, advocacy, and service.”

Finding a cure for canine cancer not only means that dogs will live longer, happier lives, but it can also have an impact on human health and vice-versa. Dogs and humans share the same cancers and many of the same treatments, and the research, advancements, and finally a cure benefits everyone. It’s all about friends helping friends!

And don’t forget to follow me @LeahMcClellan

For more info: National Canine Cancer Foundation blog

Canine Cancer Awareness

OncoLink Vet from the University of Pennsylvania

BMD Health Links (an excellent resource for canine cancer information)

You can read this article and more on Examiner.com, where I’m the Philadelphia Pet Care Examiner.

An adult blacklegged or deer tick enlarged many times. Photo: Wikipedia.

Pennsylvania and New Jersey are considered high risk areas for Lyme disease, and that can only mean one thing: ticks.

For dogs and their owners who rarely leave Philadelphia city limits and for whom a visit to a park means a stroll through Rittenhouse Square, ticks might only be an infrequent concern. However, for dogs and puppies who live in or venture further out into the suburbs and rural areas—or even down the shore—the chances of getting bit by a tick get higher. For many people, removing ticks from their dogs and themselves is a daily summer chore.

Out of hundreds of tick species worldwide, over twenty-five types have been identified in Pennsylvania. Of these, four main species of ticks are very common across the greater Philadelphia area: the dog tick, the blacklegged tick, the lone star tick, and the ground hog tick. Dog ticks and blacklegged ticks (formerly known as deer ticks and a primary Lyme disease carrier) are the most common ticks in southeastern Pennsylvania and southern New Jersey.

Although ticks are active all year round as long as temperatures are above 45F, they are most active during the warm summer months, especially in July.

Part 2 Dogs and Lyme disease 2, 3, 4

More info on ticks

If you found this article useful, you might also want to Learn about fleas

Today was a day of death for me.

Early this morning, it was journalist Steven Wells, most recently of Philadelphia Weekly fame. Later on, it was Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. Sort of a double-whammy there: two icons of childhood gone.

Farrah Fawcett? My heart goes out to her, her loved ones, and her fans, but I was always more of a Kate Jackson type. And though I’m hardly a celebrity-watcher, I knew a whole lot more about Princess Diana–and shed many more tears when she died–than I ever knew about Farrah Fawcett.

Michael Jackson? Talented, sure, though his music and performances never did much for me, and I never did get what, exactly, the crotch-grabbing is all about. Still don’t, though I’ve asked around. The plastic surgery and scandals–not very interesting to me though I’ve always felt vaguely sorry for him. My heart goes out to his family, friends, and everyone who loved him.

Steven Wells? I know next to nothing about him but I cried on and off all day. I didn’t exactly bawl my eyes out, but the tears welled up whenever I thought about his passing. I made several posts about it on a discussion forum where I participate regularly. I sent an email to his executive editor to express my condolences. I imagined all his colleagues having a miserable sort of day trying to get work done, or maybe whooping it up in his honor, or (for all I know) maybe my favorite Philly weekly closed the doors for the day and flew a flag at half-mast. I imagined the grief his wife and his family must be feeling. I have no idea. I just imagined.

It was a sad day for me. Why?

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Stay tuned for more insights from our new contributor “Gliese.”

I am a student from the planet Gliese, and I’m conducting research about humans on a very strange planet called Earth. Back on Gliese, we’re similar in some ways but extremely different in others, and my research here so far has been an exercise in frustration.

My first project is human family units within the political unit called the United States. At first I had the impression that the older males (fathers to the children and mates to the females) are of substandard intelligence and the subject of many jokes such as this one: “My Dad thinks he wears the trousers in our house, but it’s always Mom who tells him which pair to put on.” Apparently “trousers” signify authority of some kind but it’s hard to say, since both males and females wear this item of clothing.

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Although I wanted to bring my cat Eliot to our holistic vet this week, I decided in the end to take him to our traditional vet, just because the traditional vet knows him better.

The difference between the two is that the holistic vet is certified in and very supportive of alternative methods of healing and wellness such as herbal remedies, acupuncture, and chiropractic care in addition to all the usual in veterinary medicine. Other than that, both are well-trained, up-to-date, intelligent and professional, and great vets by any standard. I think of them as friends and feel comfortable with both.

The traditional vet saved Eliot’s life almost four years ago, though, and Eliot’s records at that office are a file four inches thick. They know him well, and I can’t afford both, so to the traditional vet we went.

“There’s the miracle cat!” the veterinarian enthused today, as always, when he saw us. I had to smile though my hand was clenching tissues. We all went through hell and back to save his life, and there’s nothing like a reward for hard work even though nothing we did would have made a difference if Eliot weren’t the fighter that he is.

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Late this evening (it was already getting dark), I was about to head downstairs for some dinner and a walk with my dogs. I had one last task I wanted to finish, though, and I looked underneath a few random pieces of paper to find my to-do list.

GAH!

I flinched back like a snake had just slithered out from under a bush. The scare only lasted a moment, though, as I realized what I was looking at: kitty puke.

Oh, yes. And the suspect in the case can only be one Mr. Nikki, who is the only cat in the house capable of jumping up on my desk. He’s not only capable; my desk is his favorite hang-out. His gift to me today was Tubular Hairball au jus, with the au jus served separately on my planner.

I smiled and was grateful. Not for the hairball and the ruined planner but because my not-inexpensive camera was spared. Just a few tiny drops of gravy landed on it, and no damage was done.

It was a long day, and it wasn’t particularly fun, but it ended with a smile. Sometimes the smallest of blessings are deeply appreciated.

Note to self: keep electronic devices in drawer from now on.