Dogging the Dog

My son's girlfriend showed me a picture she took with her cellphone of a shirt similar to the one pictured here. I believe she was a bit miffed that I mentioned her extended shopping expedition in my Navy Pier blog a couple weeks ago.

In fact, she commented, her mother told her that if they had visited Chicago as mother-daughter, the shopping may have gone on for days, not just hours. Oh, well. Guess it must be a girl thing.

That's not what I wanted to blog about today. Kind of in a dilemma here wondering what to do about our little mutt Doogie. We had been worried about his upsurge in water intake which began some months ago, very abnormal for him.

So we took him to the vet who discovered infection and prescribed anti-biotics. A couple hundred dollars later, he's free of infection, but still an overly thirsty mutt. The vet wants more tests done including x-rays, also permission to do laser surgery if necessary--starting cost for all of this about $250.

That's where we're at. When I mentioned the costs to a co-worker, he noted, "A box of shells is only $20." Of course, I know many folk including some blogging buddies of mine who would not hesitate to spend whatever it took to help their pet, even if it only postponed the inevitable.

I guess I'm somewhere in between. Other than his drinking problem, Doogie is happy and healthy otherwise. And at 14, he's already outlived any pet I've ever had, or known personally. And anyway I've never seen life as a contest to see who could live the longest; that goes for people as well as dogs.

So I guess we'll adopt a wait-and-see for now. As long as he continues to be a merry mutt, we'll keep his water dish filled and take turns getting up in the middle of the night to let him out. Argghhh! No, we love our dog.

Sometimes in those middle-of-the-night trips to the backyard, Doogie spots a critter, perhaps a raccoon or even worse, a cat. Egads! An intruder in our midsts? The alarm must be sounded. The neighborhood must be awakened and alerted. Bark, bark, bark, bark! Arggghhh! No, we love our dog.

And we'll keep putting up with the occasional accidents, upchucks in living colors, that goes along with the begging and the constant scratching to go out or come in, perfectly timed to coincide with the moment that we're fully reclined in our Lazy Boy recliners. Arrghhhh! No, we love our dog.

Then there's his paranoia of thunderstorms, like the roof-rattler that hit last night, sending Doogie in a panic throughout the house, bumping into furniture and knocking things onto the floor. Or quivering on our bed, shaking it so much that it seemed like one of those cheap hotel beds where you a put a quarter in so it vibrates (uh, so I've been told about).

Arrgghhhh! No, we love our dog. [Sigh]