I noticed on another blog’s blogroll that it’s been six days since I last posted here. That just doesn’t seem right to me. I’m sure that I wrote a blog post just the other day. One of the problems with being retired is losing track of time. Here it is 2013 and I am just flabbergasted.
The last couple of days have been sultry, after a small cold snap in October (?), it’s been warm weather every day. The water in the pool is too cool for my taste, but last Saturday I did sit on the steps and dip my feet. It’s also been the worst year for mosquitos that I can remember. Right now I am wearing flipflops and a sleeveless shift, the overhead fan is moving air around so it’s pleasant enough. If it wasn’t for the mosquitos I would be outside, but then again, I wouldn’t be writing this blog post.
With this blast of warmth, I am pondering if we should take Mr Dog to the vet down the street to be shorn. Mr. Dog has never been a fan of baths or grooming,now with advancing age and bad eye sight, he is a total wreck when he hears the clippers. His normal vet has a thriving pet grooming business, with several employees.They would be glad to pick him up and deliver him, but Mr Dog doesn’t do well there. He picks up on the other dogs’ nervousness and freaks out. The vet down the street isn’t as busy, so we walk Mr Dog there and pay extra to have him sedated. It’s an extreme measure but this vet is the one who does all the work himself, rather than having some kid bath and clip him. In order to limit the number of times that Mr. Dog is heavily medicated we had him totally shaved. I figure that way he can have two maybe three hair cuts a year, he looks odd for a few months, well groomed a month or two and then just sorta shaggy.
Mr Dog had a check up recently, his vet says that he is in great shape and doesn’t look like a fifteen year old dog. I say that Mr. Dog is turning into a cat, he sleeps in, eats breakfast and then rests up until dinner.Just like a cat he conserves energy all day. He has the beginning of cataracts so his vision is not great. I don’t know if he gets confused, or if it’s due to lack of visual acuity,but he gets lost in our house these days. He wakes up in the middle of the night, goes into the dining room and turns right instead of left. We find him in the recibidor (foyer) facing a closed door looking puzzled. Sometimes he gets stuck in corners, or he tries to go through doors that aren’t normally open. Recently, he went through the arch in front of the fountain, turned left and got lost.
He is going deaf, which means that thunder and the frequent fireworks we experience here don’t bother him much these days.We watch his tail to see how he feels. Mr Dog’s tail serves as a mood barometer, the higher he holds his tail the happier he is. His normal tail posture is a slight upward curl at the tip, when he’s excited it goes to half mast, when he is scared it scoots between his legs. Mostly he is carries it up these days, even stuck in a corner staring at the movies in his head, Mr Dog is happy.
Even with all his problems, Mr Dog can tell time. Around five thirty every evening he comes and stares at me. he looks intently at me, then he turns and stares at the clock on the wall. Eventually, he wears me down, I explain it isn’t six yet, but he persists. When I stand up and head for the kitchen, he prances. He trots ahead of me, looking back and bounces up and down like a rocking horse. Unless it’s raining,he eats outside. After he finishes dinner, he bursts through the doors into our family room, runs into the kitchen then back outside, doing a couple of victory laps, convinced that he used the force of his will to control me. After a couple of laps he rests up until around nine when he stares at us, walks to the door and then comes back, he has decided it’s time to go to bed and wants us to join him. Eventually, he realizes that he isn’t Svengali, sighs and goes to bed by himself.