Tales of Ella the Circus Dog
2006-05-05 9:54 PM
Our Little Hospice.
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We’ve been running a little hospice lately, what with both Cat and Labrador feeling under the weather. First, it was Cat. He felt like eating but then he felt like giving back what he ate. It was all over the garage in the mornings. The People took him to Doctor, and they told me later that Cat had to take medicine to help him keep his food. Cat tells me he doesn’t like it, but Cat never likes what is good for him.
Labrador started out one day just fine, but by the end of that day, she was walking tilted again, like some of the drunks I used to see in Santa Paula when I was living on the streets. The People took her to Doctor, too, and later I smelled the place on her back where her medicine had gone in, and I asked her if she had felt it. She only looked at me crooked. She can’t hold her head up, and she walks in circles out in the yard. I stand apart and watch. It’s been days, but she’s not much better. At least she is eating again.
I’m not nearly ready for the hospice, and neither is Poodle, even though she gets punctured morning and night. I’ve been looking at pictures in Bark about agility training, and I’ve been thinking of asking the People to sign me up. Can’t they see how athletic I am? I flex my muscles every night in the hall of mirrors. But with all the infirmity around me, maybe the People don’t notice my great shape. Tonight I will stand on them and walk up on their shoulders and down their arms until they see me and not all the residents of our little hospice.
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