A couple of weeks back, I received an e-mail from a bloke who for all his ‘bluff and bluster’ is; I hate to admit, actually a caring person. The content was to enquire after the health and welfare of my beloved dog Coco, as I hadn’t given any updates for quite a while.
As you know, poor Coco had an operation just before Christmas on a torn ligament, and whilst he was an impatient at the Annandale Animal Hospital, it was found that he had a serious heart murmur, and a smaller problem with his lungs.
Since then he’s been on medication to control the murmur, and get rid of the excess of fluid, building up, in his lungs.
This medicine in the form of capsules, and pills, is given twice daily; an hour before his breakfast, and his dinner.
Consequently. since December I have been getting up every morning, early. During the summer, and warmer months, that meant 0530 hours, or, as some like to say, 5.30 am, for the pre breakfast administration.
I then flop back on my bed, until feeding time at 0630 hours /6.30 am, when I serve breakfast, to his obvious delight; he does a double pirouette without fail, as I place his meal of chicken, rice and those dry pellets, which his Vet recommended.
In winter and the cooler months, I’m getting up for the first session at 0630 hours /6.30 am, and going through the same routine, an hour later.
Well, as you can imagine, it’s not really worth my while going back to bed then, is it? So I have my first breakfast, normally a bowl of porridge, putting on my Ronnie Barker hat; this sustains me for a couple of hours, before breakfast number 2, which is more substantial.
Naturally, it’s not as substantial as was once my wont, the ‘Full English Breakfast’ is now but a memory; this now is my normal.
Sometimes I let my hair down, and get daring; I’ll have half ,of a 220 gm can, baked beans under the egg. What you’re seeing is TWO breakfast, I can only manage the one egg, on half a toasted hamburger bun.
And that answers part two, of said caring persons e-mail. How was I getting on.
About a week ago, I opened a post by another caring person, which made me quite upset. She was giving an update on her beloved dog, German, who at 11 years is getting near the end of his too short a life, I must be truthful, and admit that the only time I ever get teary, is when I read, or see something about a dog, an old, faithful, friend and companion, and this post did.
For some reason/s, I never get the same feeling about/for humans.
She spoke of how German had turned grey around his muzzle, and I looked and checked out my Coco, he too has turned grey; seemingly overnight. He also looked much older, he will be 11 years come October.
I took a picture of his greying chops and was filled with dread.