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Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").



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   hypochondria by proxy
Friday, January 18 2008
While Eleanor was being treated for her second blown knee ligament, our vet had raised concerns about a heart murmur he'd detected. He'd suggested taking Eleanor to a special canine cardiologist up near Troy, the sort of over-the-top doggy healthcare we normally deride when undertaken by others. But we have doggy insurance, so today we found ourselves heading Troyward up the Thruway.
Our charming doggy cardiologist announced that our vet must have "very good hearing" because he could hardly hear any murmur at all. But he went ahead with the ultrasound anyway and found, as expected, that Eleanor's heart is completely healthy. The only unusual thing about her heart is that one of the coronary arteries branches from the aorta an unusually large distance from the heart (say, a half inch instead of an eighth of an inch). This wasn't the first time our vet's hypochondria-by-proxy sounded a false alarm, but at least this time it clearly hadn't benefited him.
The good thing about going to and from Troy is that it meant going past Albany, which (unlike where we live) has Indian food that is both good and cheap. The heart of Albany's deliciousness lies on Lark Street, which is what passes for a hip neighborhood in New York's capital city. As usual for occasions when we venture to Albany, conditions on the street were uncomfortably cold and the light of the setting sun alternated between murky insufficiency and blinding.
Strangely, we could only find one Indian restaurant in the Lark Street neighborhood, and we knew this one to be mediocre. In the end we settled for Thai food, and after that we went to a brand-new vegan deli called Food for Thought, where Gretchen blew over $30 on vegan calzones, burritos, and promotional teeshirts. She likes to support businesses she believes in, even if they're restaurants and she has a full stomach. She would be eating well tomorrow (her birthday) no matter the state of the kitchen.


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