BITS AND PIECES

When Nigel went into the hospital for his UTI, he could stand (with a lot of help) on his back legs and he could wag his tail, and he would let us know when he needed to poop.
Sometime after he got home, maybe a few days, we noticed he had lost all of those abilities.
His tail droops. It breaks his DadPerson's heart. Wagging tails are important to him because it indicates a quality of life. In this case, Nigel cannot tell us "My life is fine!" or "My life sucks."
Thinking about this of course drives me crazy.

It does not seem to bother Nigel....

However this tells me one of three things: either we somehow hurt his back further, or the Hospital did, or this is progressive.

I think he should have an MRI. The tricky part is convincing the head of household, the guy with the wallet, that this is important and necessary. I need to talk to Doc.
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For the past week or so I have been tearing apart jewelry. It started with sorting. This bead is red and goes here, this is green and goes there, this is black and goes over here, this is blue-ish-greenish-with-some-pink and goes....ah...ah...ah.....
Not only do I not know but I have run pretty short of over here's and over there's.
So I began getting into drawers already stocked with junk and sorting the junk.
Ok this is PMC stuf and can all go together in.....THIS box (as I dump out another box.) and THIS stuff is....not anything I need right now so it can go in a pile here. And that bead and all the beads that are funny colors go in the PMC drawer and THIS  drawer has
OOPs kinves. Shit. Blood everywhere....(Xacto knives, tissue blades,scalpels, like those knives...) (Never reach into a strange drawer without looking.) (Never mind that the drawer had a label that read VERY SHARP THINGS.)

Back to work. Have you ever picked up beads with a bandage on your finger?