Saturday, May 1, 2010

Paws by any other name


Adapting is part of a dog’s nature.  I’m getting there.  Living inside this small space  has its advantages.  While home my people are never more than a tail’s width away from me.  My coup to take over the chesterfield has been successful.   It has been so successful that now owner lays out a blanket for me to lie on when  she’s away. Used to be I would dart for cover when I heard the key in the lock so they wouldn’t know I’d been up on the forbidden couch….now I don’t even lift my head.  Dozing, I give a cursory glance as they come through the door and pretend I hadn’t even noticed they were out.

They feel so guilty that I don’t have a verandah to lie on (there is one but I used it to wander into the neighbour’s apartment) that they pretty much take me everywhere they go.  This will end soon as temperatures inside the car can soar quickly and knock me off.  In fact, if they try to take me in the car when it is much hotter than today, you will hear my claws ripping the carpet as they pull me towards the doorway.  Got to get outta here is my mantra but not on pain of death!

Claws.  Hmmph.  There’s a a topic.  Claws are part of paws.  Paws are our equivalent of feet.  Feet have been the topic of the week.  My paws get sore too, you know.  Perhaps if I had a big wedge of glass in my foot we’d go see the vet, otherwise the only kindness shown to my feet is when I’m allowed to wander in the grass beside the walkway.  Owner on the other hand is boring us to tears with her tales of woe.  To make everything sound authentic, she has seen an orthopedist, a podiatrist and a neurologist.  They all agree.  Surgery, surgery, surgery and the sooner the better if she wants to walk anywhere for any length of time. (Italy, cobblestones, walking all day….wheelchair anyone?)  

I’m all for her feeling better but it will mean eight or nine weeks of me living here in Texas. This is the state of my birth and I’m nothing if not loyal but during the heat of the summer it won’t be fun.  AND owner will be  unable to get me out and about to smell the flowers, so to speak.   Woohoo, you can guess how excited that makes me feel.  Us dogs have a saying….JUST SAY NO (to litterboxes).

Today she spent some time with the neurologist.  After picking her feet with pins he declared that yes she had lost some feeling in her right foot. Now wait a minute….LOST some feeling?  I don’t get it.  All she does is moan and whine and complain about her foot hurting!  Get it straight owner…one or the other lady.  Either you don’t feel anything or you do. You are not going to get my sympathy for two diametrically opposed sensations.  Which is it going to be? 

So I sit here and delicately lick at my paws.  There was some really great urine in the grass today and I managed to bring some home with me.  Do they bring those horses in just to keep us dogs excited or what?  Anyway, what she can’t see (or obviously smell!) doesn’t bother her.  If she doesn’t leave a note to tell Curly I had a big walk at three, he ‘ll feel guilty I was inside most of the day and take me out for another big walk at five.  Now how to hide that pen?  See ya later.


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