Shadow is eating again. Of course, we had to go out and buy the canned and expensive, gravy-lamb-chop-and-country-fried-steak kind of dogfood, but she’s eating. She’s eating a lot. I’m thinking that chomping on that hard, dry food was tough on her teeth and jaws. You know how old people hafta have their food mashed-up? I guess it’s the same with old animals. She’s already surpassed the average life span of a dog her breed and size–it’s no suprise to me she’d be having trouble chewing at this point. Caleb’s gone off to find some non-skid doggie socks–we’re hoping that will keep her from falling all over herself all the time. My bet is that her back legs are just giving out from under her–I don’t neccessarily think she’s all the sudden slipping around on a floor she’s had no problem walking on up until recently. Maybe the socks combined with the extra energy she’s getting from actual food will help the situation. Other than all that she doesn’t seem to be in any pain. She can still see. She can still hear–when she feels like it. We’re just going to let her do whatever the hell she wants to do until she dies. I know that’s a sucky way of putting it–Caleb won’t even hear of it–but it becomes more and more of a reality with every month that passes and she’s still hanging in there. My only hope is that when she does go, it won’t be because I had to make the choice at a cold vet’s office after she’s withered away to practically nothing…no. Ideally, she’ll stick around for a while, pissing me off to the bitter end, before she dies comfortable and happy in her sleep…
When all the kids are miraculously spending the night at someone else’s house, and they’re all old enough to understand and deal with the concept of death.
Okay, so maybe my sense of reality isn’t quite what it ought to be. I’ll work on that.
It’s Saturday and Caleb and I have a lot on the TO DO list:
- Vacuum out the closet. Install shoe rack. Hang up canvas room-divider that we haven’t found yet.
- Find canvas divider. Forget to actually make the purchase. Head back to the store to buy it.
- Sand down the girls’ old crib. Paint said crib. Put crib together. This might take longer than expected.
- Somehow find room for all the baby crap we have piled up in the entry-way of our home.
- Realize #4 cannot possibly be done and come to grips with the fact that all that stuff will have to remain right where it is.
- Cram a six-foot tall bookshelf into a corner of Cheyenne’s room.
- Get Caleb to change the air filters and dust the ceiling fans so that in the process of trying I don’t fall and break my neck.
- Put all miscellaneous boxes of junk in the attic, and then worry about reinforcing the attic floor what with all the stuff we’ve managed to jam-pack up there.
- Pull most of it back out and take it to Good Will. But first, let it all sit in the garge for the next eight months.
- Carb load; so that, tomorrow, I might have enough energy to give Shadow a bath. Don’t want her getting her new doggie booties all dirty.
Well, I’m off to do some canvas room-divider shopping. Think I’ll let Caleb, my Man of Steel, take care of the rest…except for the carb-loading. Baby’s in the mood for some pancakes.