A lesson in not getting ahead of yourself

April 28, 2010

in Family

OK, it’s really a lesson in not getting ahead of myself.  It began in the wee hours of this morning and involved our dog.  Our dog has a habit of teaching me lessons. Damned dog.

He’s a mini schnauzer, although you probably wouldn’t guess that by looking at him.  He sports a very bad home haircut and is likely extremely embarrassed when he sees other schnauzers.  Which might be why he’s so keen on teaching me lessons.

He’s also very, very old. Ancient.  I bought him soon after I met The Thinker, which was a long 15 years ago.  By my calculations, that’s about 105 in dog years.  Ancient.  In fact, he’s so ancient that I’ve been preparing myself for his demise for the last five or six years.

But the old dog just keeps on going.  He’s had one (unscheduled) visit to the vet in the last eight years.  If I’m half as fit when I’m 105 I’ll be a very happy old lady.

So in the darkness this morning I heard him crying outside.  On investigation I found him staggering around, unable to use his back legs.  Carefully, I picked him up and popped him back in bed.  This is it, I thought.  Old age has finally got the better of him.  Poor dog.

Back inside I went about shuffling my day around so I could wait at home for the vet.  I thought about where we might bury him (the dog, not the vet).  Who would have to dig the hole?  Is it legit for The Thinker to have a day off to dig a grave?  How deep should it be?  Could I dig a hole that big?  I hope the vet doesn’t cost too much, the budget’s getting a bit tight this month.  How will I handle this with the kids?  Should we have a little ceremony? …

Come daylight I broke the news to The Thinker as he arrived home from swimming.  Only to get a very odd look as the dog stumbled past the kitchen window … with one of his back legs caught up in his little doggy coat.

Damned dog!

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