Bad and better

I think that it would be more or less fair to say that last week was not the greatest. Dylan perked up for a while and then returned to his recent state of being uncharacteristically detached and listless, which was not a good sign, so back to the vet he went on Monday afternoon and then again on Wednesday morning and then again (again) on Wednesday afternoon, at which point he was taken out of our hands for a couple of days to be hooked up to some intravenous medications.

In the middle of this all, on Tuesday morning our friend’s dog had a seizure and had to be put to sleep, which then served to exacerbate all our worries about Dylan, as well as adding our friend’s wellbeing to our concerns. In the end the week more or less got away from us, though at least Dylan came home, minus bits of fur, on Friday, and settled in fairly well over the weekend. He has been back to himself since then, though little does he know that yet another visit to the vet awaits him today. Shh, don’t tell.

Of course, the world never stops – well, not unless there is a global pandemic – so all the other bits and pieces needed to be done, including a couple of extra bits of arrangement for some forthcoming concerts and some organisational things for Anghiari. Oh, and my flight to Anghiari was cancelled, so yet more organisational stuff, but these things are sent to try us.

At least over this weekend I was able to clear my head a little, inhale deeply, take stock of things and begin to look forwards again rather than having to focus solely on the present, as a result of which I felt distinctly better. It helped also to be able to chat to a couple of people, and I know that at least one of them is reading this, so thank you.

The week was capped off by a truly outstanding performance of Palestrina’s Tu Es Petrus (mass and motet) at Hampstead, our six singers producing a wondrous sound despite sore throats, last-minute cancellations, errant clefs and organisational confusion (mine). It was utterly glorious stuff, balm for the soul, after which I had a productive meeting about where to go next with the music provision at the church and then made the long journey home to be greeted by Dylan, who pretty much leapt into my arms and then spent most of the rest of the evening there.