Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,
We made the annual visit to the vet on Tuesday, which Franklin and Penelope despised. The vet examined them, cut their nails (he's a much better manicurist than I am), supplied us with a year's worth of flea/tick/heartworm preventive, gave the necessary shots, and drew blood. The blood work costs extra, but I'm glad to pay for it because it enabled the vet to catch the early stages of kidney disease in Franklin. Franklin has eaten prescription food for a couple of years now and the kidney problem is gone. The vet is also monitoring a possible thyroid problem with Franklin.
A visit to the vet is never easy, though. Franklin and Penelope walked across the parking lot with me, but when we actually got to the door, they turned to try to go the other way. More than 100 lbs. of dog can be difficult to deter.
After the struggle to get inside, we headed for the desk, where Penelope walked around me in a circle, thus hobbling me with her leash. If Mom can't walk, then we might as well leave, yes? NO.
With help from one of the kind assistants, we made it to the back for the weigh-in. Franklin is 72 lbs. and Penelope is 40. Then it was off to the exam room. Franklin was the first to go to the back to have his blood drawn. When the vet returned him to the room, he didn't want to go through the door. As soon as I said, Mom is here, Franklin, he entered the room and threw himself at my feet.
The three of us were happy to leave, although exhausted for the rest of the day. When Franklin and Penelope went out later in the day, Franklin had great difficulty getting up the few steps to the deck. His age-related struggles weigh heavily on my mind.
That night, Penelope woke me by departing the bed in the wee small hours of the morning (Penelope is a Sinatra fan; I am not). Had it thundered, thus frightening her into the safety of my closet? No.
Come back to bed, Penelope. She returned briefly, only to hop down to emit a small, but insistent, bark. We decamped for the backyard, where Franklin, in a ballet of peeing, lifted one back leg slightly, foot straight, toes extended, and then flopped in a pile of dead leaves to watch Penelope with his usual bemused expression. She trotted from one leaf to the next blade of grass, nose to the ground, certain something unpleasant had been in her yard.
After an exhaustive search that turn up nothing, she relieved herself with an eloquent sigh. Could we return to the comfort of the bed? No. She had to inspect the flowerpots yet again, in case access to the secret passage to France had magically opened up. Not finding her heart's desire, finally she allowed us to go inside the house.
Penelope beat me back to bed, where I thought sleep awaited. Two minutes later, I rolled over and knocked one of her toys out of the bed. Unacceptable! She left the bed again to woof about the many ways life treats her unfairly.
Sleep had ended. A new day had begun.
Infinities of love,
|The red jacket was Penelope's first item of clothing.|
She liked it, although it was not French.
Franklin recovering in my bathroom after a potty breakduring a hurricane--the one occasion he was angry with me.
|Franklin enjoying a Kissmas tree while he waits for Santa Paws.|