I was dogsitting for my mother and her boyfriend this weekend. My mother has the two dogs I grew up with, Jack Russells names Cooper and Shilo. Her boyfrtiend, Steve, has an old chocolate lab named Fletcher. We (my husband and I) renamed Fletcher, Chesterfield. This is due to the fact that he's the exact colour of brown as my mom's leather couch. Chesterfield now responds to his new moniker without hesitation and he's a lovely old boy.
When I was dogsitting he wouldn't do anything I asked. He wouldn't go outside, wouldn't go in the basement where he eats and sleeps. I thought he was being stubborn, I raised my voice at him. He just looked at me sadly.
By the end of the day yesterday I noticed he couldn't scratch his ear, and he could barely stand. He was in terrible pain and he was favouring his back legs (both of them). My brother and I had to carry him into the house because he couldn't even walk. The poor guy, he's the sweetest dog ever and I had been cross with him for two days.
Mom and Steve took him to the vet. He has arthritis, apparently so they loaded him up with anti-inflammatory and codeine injections. He's lost 10 lbs of muscle because he can't exercise. I love him so much, I can't bear the thought of him being in pain all the time. The thing that makes me sad is I don't think Steve will ever be able to let him go. They think he might be able to live another 3 or 4 years. I wonder whether Chesterfield wants to live that much longer.
It breaks my heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment