Frank got up. Was feeling much, much better. Fed Chico as usual. Had

breakfast himself. Got his coffee mug out to the porch to feed his furry

friends…and noticed something wrong with Pepe, the deer. He looked

in pretty bad shape. His eyes looked aimless. He actually had collapsed

on the ground. Frank got alarmed. Frantic. Chico started walking in

long circles. Very agitated. Frank called the local veterinarian. He

arrived 20 minutes later. He and his team got Pepe into the station

wagon and drove to the veterinarian’s offices. Pepe was cleaned and

washed. Lab work was done immediately. X rays were taken too.

After an hour the results came in. Pepe had contracted the Covid

variant. He had to remain in the veterinarian’s care for at least two

weeks. Was put on oxygen and antibiotics. It was a matter of time

before a definite full diagnosis was given. First things first. Frank was

very sad. This current sanitary crisis was now taking its toll on his dear

furry friends whom he love very much. There was nothing he could do

but wait. He spent the next two weeks in long walks in the woods

trying to numb his thinking. The baths in the stream helped him. The

water running through him on him by him. Made him realize the

futility of life. He cut down on eating and increased his drinking.

Would play those piano pieces his wife Lucia loved. His mood

somehow would relax and would put away his preoccupations away

by using music as a crutch. Would go to bed with the window wide

open. Reading for an hour or so with Chico by his feet keeping him

company. And fell asleep.

Two weeks passed. Pepe was going to be OK. Frank was elated. The

veterinarian staff dropped Pepe looking good and strong. Frank was

happy. Very happy. Chico, the squirrels and the birds seemed happy as

well. Frank yelled to the woods. It was a primal wild scream. He was

happy. And that had to be celebrated with a long strong one.

Life was good.

EO