What We Remember, What We Forget

I took Fate to the Vet for her shots this morning.  It was the first time in over two years that I was able to go into the office.

I imagine it’s easier and more efficient for the doctors and technicians to get their work done without us people there.  And Dr. Suzanne Fariello said that some people prefer to wait in their cars and read.

It certainly isn’t necessary for me to go into the Vet’s office for a routine visit. And I did cringe a bit when I was in the small exam room so close to two other people even though we had our masks on.

It will take some getting used to again.

I always enjoy talking to  Suzanne. She’s impressive in how she’s grown her Veterinary business.  There is an ease to how the office runs and you can tell by the attitudes of the people who work there that it is a good environment to be in.

I also appreciate the young interns learning how to hold Fate and draw blood from her.  Fate is content to be held and scratched and cooed at even if she is getting poked and prodded.  Nicole one of the technicians, who used to farm sit for us, always makes sure to trim Fate’s rogue nail that grows longer than the rest.

And I got to see Jon’s photos hanging on the wall in the exam room of Red, Fate and the sheep.  It took seeing those pictures to realize how my flock has changed.  The four rescue Romneys were there, thick with two years worth of wool.  I had to look closely to distinguish Zelda from Liam.

Suzanne spoke lovingly of Red.  Although she only saw him when he came to the Vet, she said he was one of her favorite dogs and she likes having his photo in the office.

It was such a strange thing the first time I went to the Vet when covid hit and I had to wait outside. Now it’s unusual to go inside. And for a moment, I couldn’t remember the names of all four of the Romneys.  I don’t need to think about Red every day but it was nice to see him again in the picture.

I find it curious what we remember and the things we forget. And how we adapt to change so what was once natural can, over time, become unfamiliar.

When Fate was a puppy she used to sleep on my shoes all the time.  When we got back from the Vet, I found her under the dining room table using my sneakers as a pillow. Maybe, after getting three different needles this morning, she was finding comfort in something she was remembering too.

8 thoughts on “What We Remember, What We Forget

  1. I love this story. And the photo. And where did you get those shoes?
    I would love to have some like that

  2. Maria…
    I don’t believe that we forget the past; it’s all stored up there, someplace. The problem is, we forget that we know it.

    An example: My first seven years were spent in Brooklyn, and I am four years older than my brother. So, I’m helping him remember that time by capturing screen shots of our old neighborhood from 1940’s-era YouTube clips.

    I don’t know if that is working for him, but it worked for me. Those images evoked once-forgotten memories, like those trolley cars I used to ride, rattling down Flatbush Avenue.

    1. It’s possible it’s all in there Donald. I guess there are those things I don’t want to remember so, maybe they all get mixed up together. Sounds like you’re enjoying going back to the old Brooklyn. That’s a nice thing.

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