Treacherous

Not the chihuahua. The ice, five inches deep on the sidewalks. 

I had to go back to the Emergency Room to get more wound dressings. The dog bite is healing (thanks to the makers of antibiotics), but the deep punctures are still bleeding, so I need to keep it covered. Because of the ice and snow, the streetcars are not running, so I can't get to a pharmacy that stocks these particular bandages. I explained this to the kind nurses at the ER, and they left three of them for me at reception. 

How to get there without slipping and falling on the ice? Very slowly.

I may have been anthromorphizing yesterday, for which I apologize. It's hard for me to believe that only humans can be kind, as I feel I've experienced kindness from animals and from the universe itself. I could be accused of sentimentality, though I comfort myself with something Meridel LeSueur said in a writing workshop: "Sentimentality is any sentiment with which the critic does not agree."