I woke up yesterday to let Jones out at the usual time, even tho I’ve been basically out-cold-sick since Monday afternoon, and he looked a little wobbly. I told Rodney and fell back asleep until 11. We ended up going to the vet at 2 so she could confirm he’d likely had a stroke. Both left-side feet are not very responsive and he’s listing to one side, falling over, etc.
I just got done taking him out back to pee (he didn’t fall over!) in the sleeting snow, at 1am. And I am now sitting on the couch in my robe and sneakers, waiting for him to fall back to sleep.
I love this dog more than I’ve ever loved another being ever. He’s my longest, most successful relationship. It kills me that it’s going to be over soon. “Soon” in a relative sense… he’s as stubborn as I am, so soon will not be soon. It’s just more real now that he’s actually compromised. Deafness, I could deal with; the inability to walk is something completely different.
This is him sleeping a couple weeks ago. He’s my old man.
