At ten, Leo is still very much a puppy. Prematurely gray around his muzzle and his paws, he shows few signs of being the equivalent of a seventy year old human, except maybe that he needs to pee in the middle of the night. Leo can still break into a sprint faster than any young stud I know. Not that I know any young studs.
Today Leo just didn't want to get up. He lay listless on the floor, getting up occasionally to lap up some water, then flopping himself back down with what appeared to be great relief. I'm not sure of many things, but I'm pretty certain that if I had a ruptured tumor bleeding all over my abdomen I'd be pretty whiny. From Leo, not a peep. I can only imagine how much energy it took for him to thump his tail up and down in appreciation every time I went over to say "hi." Leo is probably the most good-natured soul I'll ever know.
A dreary and cold winter day became drearier and colder as the news of Leo's condition unfolded, although I barely noticed I wasn't wearing a coat as I tried to coax him out of the car at the animal hospital. Somehow he knew this was not a place he wanted to visit, and he literally dug in his heels. Two nurses managed to sweet talk him out of the back seat (he's a sucker for pretty ladies) and hoisted him up onto a gurney so he could ride -- like the prince he is -- into the hospital. Whatever Leo does, he does with style and grace.
Manny knows something is amiss. He didn't even seem to enjoy eating what Leo refused to eat at breakfast, though he'd been eying it all day. It's just no fun eating alone.
There's so much I want to say about Leo, and to Leo, but right now I'm at a loss. Please say a prayer for my wonderful, loyal friend.
Oh, Jill!
ReplyDeleteI am typing this through tears. I lost one of my dear dogs almost two years ago. Like you, it happened at a less than great time in my life and I have no doubt that that intensified the sting. I still look behind me, expecting to see her following cheerfully behind.
I wish there were words that could console you - but I know there aren't. Still, I do hope it helps a little to know that there are people who understand the deepth of your grief.
Courage
I remember Leo as a puppy, too cute for words. No one will ever love you like a dog. When my Bobby got sick, he was in Milwaukee doing his "thing" for the breeder. I drove up there every day for a week before we realized it was time to let him go. I still think of him daily. I'll be thinking of you.
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