Mockingbird Hill Cottage
Still sleep deprived.
I feel like it will take a week to catch up. Let the week begin now, please.
On this early, somewhat less hot Sunday morning, the sun is shining and the house is nicely quiet, except for the white noise of the air conditioner. Scout’s been up for a while, Riley is waking up. Don and I are sipping coffee. We’re taking a little drive this afternoon.
What are your plans for today?
Happy Sunday.
We’ve been parked in the living room for days now. Maneuvering down the two steps into the den is done rarely. We have the air conditioner in the kitchen running constantly and it keeps both rooms nicely cool.
I’ve covered the rug with a large mat. Since Riley can’t always control his bladder or bowels, it just makes life easier for all of us. Bless his heart, though, he still does his best to let me know he has to take care of business and, more often than not, we make it outside in time.
Riley can’t get up by himself anymore. There’s always hope that might change, but for now, when I sense he’s trying to get up, I run over and lift him. He can walk; sometimes with relative ease and other times with great difficulty. He falls over a lot. And when he does stand, he can’t stay upright too long unless he’s moving. When he walks around the room and keeps moving, he does a pretty good job of it. To help him with that, I bought these:
They’re unattractive, but who cares about that at the moment? They give him traction as he moves from the living room to the kitchen. They’ve really made a big difference.
His appetite is still very healthy. He loves to eat. And he drinks a lot of water. Occasionally – and when it happens, I feel a spurt of happiness – he joins in on one of Scout’s extended barking arias. She barks, he barks, she barks, he barks. Just like they used to. When that happens, I jump right in and bark along with them.
Scout is concerned. Whenever I’m trying to maneuver him, she’s right in the midst of things; frankly, she gets in the way. But she knows, as dogs do, that he’s not well and it worries her.
This morning she’s in ‘the tunnel’.
It’s her safe place. She’s almost fully recovered, by the way. Every once in a while she stumbles and I notice that she lies down a bit more carefully than she used to. Otherwise, she’s back to her feisty, naggy, funny little self.
That’s where we are at the moment. As for me, I’m sleep deprived. I go a little stir crazy at times. I wish I could open the windows. Some fresh air and the sound of birds would be welcome as I sit in the chair watching over my boy.
It’s not time yet. As Don says, we’ll know when it’s time. Right now, he’s sleeping peacefully. For that I am grateful.
Happy Friday.
