Dad is home
I’m pleased to say that Dad is home. Of course, I am not, so I haven’t seen him, but he rang me last night to say he was at least in the same country as me and is thinking of me. That’s great, but now I need him to come and pick me up and take me home. Kennels is great and I have a whole heap of fun with the other dogs but there is nowhere quite like my own bed, my own garden and Mum and Dad. For a start, although I brought Moose, I’m really missing Sloth, Hoppig and Duck. I’m missing my Boomer balls too. Soon enough, I’ll be back I guess. Mum and Dad have asked me to be a little bit patient. Who are they kidding? It’s me they’re asking. I do not do patient!
Wilma is exhausted
Yesterday Mum said that Wilma was exhausted – all day. She was just lying on the floor wherever Mum stopped, even if Mum only stopped for a second or two. The weird thing was that it was like standing or even sitting up was just too much like hard work. Poor Wilma is struggling and there is nothing Mum can do to fix it anymore. On the plus side, she barked less yesterday, so that helped. Mind you, Mum has taken to giving her a fairly steady stream of filled Kongs to help her cope. I’m wondering if I can find a way to have that happen, preferably without being ill at the same time.
A hard life
Wilma has had such a catalogue of health problems for the last three and a half years. She had a sarcoma on her leg, then an abscess on her back, her autoimmune eye condition that has destroyed her tear ducts and her back surgery and ongoing back problems. Her arthritis is not good, she has a little dementia and now the insulinoma. It’s a lot for any dog to take and she’s done her best to be brave through it all. I suppose at the end of that, a dog can expect to be given whatever treat she asks for.
Hugs, licks and head butts
Pebbles
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