Saturday, November 5, 2011
Between Bandit, babysitting the next generation and unwrapping KitKat bars that magically did not leave the house on Halloween, I have fallen behind on Naperville Now. My apologies.
Our 1,000-year-old dog, whose brushes with death have been numerous and terrifying, woke up Thursday unable to walk. His body was skewing right, causing him to fall down like a mad drunk. Added bonus: the imbalance thing caused him to vomit pretty much across every surface of the house.
Dr. McIntyre, The Welcome Waggin' vet who makes housecalls, determined his condition to be not a stroke but vestibular disease. It is ideopathic, manifests suddenly (particularly in older dogs), and is awful to watch.
A magic shot set him nearly to rights and bits of liverwurst throughout the day sustained his rebound. By Friday night, he had managed the two steps out to the yard and back under his own steam. He was even a little peppy, all things considered.
While Bandit looks like a ghost dog (we've had him groomed since this picture was shot), he somehow manages to keep tabs on who has an English muffin or a bowl of chips (and who might be willing to share).
Today, the granddchildren are in our care, and I apologize, old dog, for the disruption and love and chasing they provide. You have never been a fan of little kids but have suffered them with grace. They are reliable sources of food, afterall, and in this life, that is no small thing.