Baby, my old dog from long ago and far away, a little blond mutt that looks like a 6 pound sheepdog isn't doing well. She's not eating in days and is sluggish, now my parents took her in to the vet and it turnes out she's got a bum heart (just like her master), she also has an enlarged liver, spots on one lung, and a small kidney stone. Doesn't sound too good.
This dog is really quite amazing. If I believed salvation was works based she'd be way ahead of me. She's visited the sick and elderly for most of her life, she's been signed up to listen to children read, when I had my seizure she first lept upon me ready to defend me from the Fireman with tooth and claw for her life, then when my mom told her it was okay she allowed the fire man to pass. In short she's a damn good dog, and as pittiful as it may sound one of the best friends I've had. We've walked countless miles together connected by leash and heart. She sat on my lap, listening to me read allowed whatever poetry moved me, Yeats and Aeschylus, are the one's I most remember reading to her, and of course Robert Service.
Peace,
Chris
1 comment:
I just tell my cat she's not allowed to die until I get home. You could try that with Baby.
kd
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