Friday 6 March 2009

Do I Love My Dog?

Well, the straight forward response to the question has to be yes, but recently, I have had reason to question that.

She is 9 nearly 10 years old and absolutely adorable. Mostly because she is clearly MY DOG! and does not give her heart to anyone else, including my husband, who I think is a little jealous of her place in my heart.

When I am around she does not respond to him without checking with me first, and okay I can be a little soft, particularly when she wants to sneak into the bedroom and lie down on the floor next to my side of the bed, even though she is not allowed in the bedroom.

After many years of faithful service, she began to 'dribble' around the house. Can you imagine the shock?! Smelly water every where?! Yuck!

Well the rules of the game for me are that she is not allowed to be ill or grow old or anything like that. She has to stay wonderfully young and fluffy and full of energy. You know, just like dogs are suppose to be.
Anyway this 'dribbling' thing started and I was very upset.

For the first time since I brought her home, I had to start thinking about the fact that she might, just might be getting older.

Well panic set in and I must admit that I did not know what to do with myself. The thought of her not being around; not greeting me at the door; not picking up when I'm unwell and nuzzling her cold nose under my arm to make me stroke her; hit me harder than I would have really expected it to. I could not bear the thought.

Along with all of this emotional stuff, was the continuous mopping up. I could not leave her alone for half an hour, before I had to get the mop and bucket out. There were times when I would admit to being a little short tempered, particularly when I was rushing in or out of the house and short of time.

Then there was the trying to get a 'sample' for the vet, which fun and games.
What rubbed salt into my emotional wounds, was the look on her little face, each time she realised that she was unable to hold herself. Well how could I possibly get angry with that. And she knew she was not herself. The sadness in her eyes was more than I could bear.

Anyway, to cut a long and emotional painful story short, we took her to the vet, paid an enormous amount of money out for x-rays, blood and urine tests and god know what else - oh yes, that would be the two courses of antibiotic, and she is back to her lovely, healthy, energetic self - with no 'dribbling' or mopping at all. It was all down to an infection.

But can I put myself through this again? I don't want to have to think about it really, but the truth of the matter is, that I love that silly old dog more than I would really like to admit. And I guess, I would have to find the pennies to pay to make her better if she got ill again (which better not be anytime too soon. I've just about managed to get over this period).

I guess this is all about the shock of or the possibility of loosing something that has been such a big part of your life. Something that you thought would always be there for you. Reality can be hard sometimes.

But she is my dog and I love her. And on reflection, it has reaffirmed my commitment to her, even in the difficult times.