One week ago, things weren’t looking too promising for me. My parents honestly thought I was headed for that ramp to the dining room table in the sky. There were lots of tears and tribulation that fateful day.
When it appeared I was going to hang in there for a while longer they talked about having to get me something like a doggie-wheelchair (they make those?) and keeping me in my cage whenever I was alone. I can’t get anywhere near the stairs inside the house as they’re either blocked off or the door is closed.
But one week later, here I am sitting up for my treat like nothing ever happened:
What a superb combination of effort, balance and concentration! And what kind of treat did I get for this magnificent display of spirit – a minuscule piece of my dry dog food. Ask me to sit up again, Mom, and see what kind of a response you get. SHOW ME THE BACON!!!
My brother might come see me this weekend. I really hope he can make it happen. I will even suffer the indignity of a bath to look my spiffiest for him. But my parents keep telling me, over and over, how good I look right now, sans the washing:
Well it seems my immediate health crisis is over for now. But I don’t have to tell you that none of us are getting out of this alive (although technically I’m not aware of my mortality). I know all dogs go to heaven, so I guess my biggest fear about death is this: will I have to hang out with the Snooks’ dogs in heaven?
I sure hope not. I hope you’re all hanging out with the ones you love!