Country folks sometimes have to deal with things in ways that their urban counterparts don’t quite understand. I remember when my mother had a small dog she had picked up somewhere; a friendly little thing, good-natured, not very smart, but she loved the little mutt. But in time, it got old and sick, then a swelling on one side of its head and a protruding eye, along with what became constant whines of pain, prompted a call to the vet – who was 80 miles away. The vet said it sounded like a brain tumor, not at all unusual in a dog that was 15 years old.