Old Dog Day

Ozma had an old dog day yesterday. It was sad and sweet all at once.

It was sad because she's my dog companion. Ozma doesn't have a wide range of options—she's not a problem-solving chimp or a memorized route flying bird—but if it involved smelling, eating, licking, walking (or walking that might slide into running!), or, especially, loving, she's always been ready to go.

Yesterday she didn't feel well. She had an upset tummy, throwing up half a dozen times, and laying quietly. Oh, she went for her W's. She always does those, even when she was due for surgery and we had to limp along for five minutes and go back in. But she turned away from food sometimes, and she was clingy.

Oz is always affectionate, but this was like she was reverting to puppydom. She burrowed in, tucking her snout against my side and putting a paw over my leg, as if to make sure I wouldn't go anywhere. At night she got up on the bed for a few minutes before we put her out of the room for sleeping, and she tried to press her entire body against me, as if saying, "I need you, please just let me be here."

Right now she's still fighting the remnants of whatever bothered her. She was lively on the morning W…but I can hear her upset tummy roiling, and she turned down her morning treats.

I want my puppy to feel better.

Greg