Kickass, the doorstop dog, turns it over to the keeper as he reports that tomorrow before the sun is up, Phyllis will be undergoing hip replacement surgery at a UW Health facility, thanks to the availability of a hospital bed in this day of abject Covid stupidity.
That UW Health and other Wisconsin health providers can proceed with procedures unrelated to the Covid epidemic speaks to a citizenry bright enough to come in out of a toxic rain, and to a governor who puts human life before politics.
In complying to an extensive prep regimen, Phyllis has been in a quarantine of sorts in which her human company has been limited to the keeper, a circumstance obviously driving her to excessive use of her cell phone where she is entertained by family, friends and “Solitare.”
The routine with which body parts are replaced these days is amazing, and once Phyllis is recovered and back on her hips, the keeper plans to explore personal possibilities, starting at the top with his cluttered and contaminated brain and working downward.
Phyllis heads into her surgery with characteristic optimism and her let’s-do-it attitude, which means she is impatient to get back to her photo-artistry, and to expanding her circle of social contacts beyond the keeper. The keeper is not offended by that; and he looks forward to the day when Phyllis reassumes her total “Waltzing Matilda” identity and the two of them can dance on with life.