We’ve had a very nice time together. Of course, it goes by much too quickly; this morning, I drive Don back to New Haven. And tonight, I’m back in the theater, taking notes on Hamlet. We’ve walked Scout, I took Don on a little walking tour of Hartford, we’ve talked and generally lazed about. Oh, and we did laundry.
Hey, you do what you have to do.
Scout is not feeling tip-top. She’s been throwing up her food occasionally. And I’ve noticed she urinates less often. I know that older dogs can develop kidney problems, so I’m concerned. But I’m trying not to worry too much, as I am the queen of worriers and worry can be debilitating. (I’m not too successful, though.) She’s almost 16 and I have to accept that, as well as the chronic diseases that can develop as our dogs age. Hopefully, I can get her stomach to calm down and then take her to the Vet when I get back home. Say some prayers, okay? It seems like there is a constant worry for her in the background of my days now. All the time. Don tells me that I need to let go of the worry, that I’m a wonderful mom, and reminds me that Scout is about a hundred years old in dog years and that means things are going to happen.
I know we’ve all been up against this. I certainly have with our dogs Winston and Riley.
I cannot contemplate life without her. I simply can’t.
I want to hang onto her as long as I can, of course.
I meant to write about Hamlet, but I’ve ended up writing about Scout and my worries about her. This is what happens when you write a blog with a new post every day, written on that day. No scheduling. Just real life, warts and all.