tonight the panting dog distracts and why, you ask, do i react, well perhaps because i can sense the dog will soon be the past tense... the sounds of congestive heart failure rise in the poor old puppy... the panting is just one sign... and jackson is away at her moms and it would be so sad if she missed his passing (but then, would she really be better off in the same physical space as her dead dog, her child of 14 years?... even if she didn't have a hyper-panicked fear of death, it would be rough, but how much anxiety can she stand, or would want to test herself with?... am i to decide?... nope, it's the roll of the dice... she goes away for a weekend and he tries to stay alive another few days hoping she comes back... and each passing month he pants a little more, his heart struggles a little more (especially after walks), and he seeks comfort a little more (so much now, alas, the poor baby)... it is not easy watching a family member grow old...
tail wagging slowly, he lumbers into the room after checking her bedroom, sniffing around, wondering where she could be and when she will get home... with virtually no concept of time and no concept of tomorrow, no less two days, he can only wait and hope moment to moment that the door will open and mommy will appear...
rest, old friend... lay your head down and rest... you will sleep and wake and sleep and wake and sleep and wake a few more times before she returns... we hope...
nite nite...
Sunday, January 12, 2014
the panting dog
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