Sunday, March 13, 2016
I don't know how old Toby is. His shelter adoption papers simply said 'approx 3 years old'. That's when we brought him into our lives. That makes about 14 this year. It's been over two years since his operation which removed his spleen. At that point I thought another year would make the procedure worth it. It's been two and a half. The strength and coordination of his back legs gets slowly worse every day. A few weeks ago I put carpeting down the kitchen to back porch stairs. He mostly slips and slides and falls down on the hardwoods. He still climbs the stairs up to the bedrooms, at least a few times a day, though a couple of nights I've carried him. If things progress as they are then we'll probably lose him this year. I'll never forget finding him in the Humane Society shelter. He was quiet, but he came over to the bars, sat down, and then leaned against them and clearly said he just wanted someone to snuggle with.
Emma is the sweetest dog ever. She's the most mild mannered, congenial, friendly dog there ever was. She absolutely charges at other dogs, but only to say "Hi, I'd like to meet you. Would you like to run and play?" She tore her knee up last year, a torn ACL. Since then she's slowed down a bit and well... she now looks a little like a line-backer. She's now on a bit of a diet, and bounces excitedly in anticipation of each meal. She's had a few previous owners, and I assume her earliest used an anti-bark collar, because she doesn't bark at all. In two years I think I've heard her bark twice. She does talk, but it's a gurgle on inhalation only. She'll happily tell you about her day and how happy she is to see you if you listen close enough. She loves to play and when worked up she'll kangaroo box Toby with her front paws (claws) to rouse him to a playful fight, just like a little sister will punch an older brother on the arm.