Sick Dog

Zoe's sick.  Pooping blood.  Pooping everywhere, really.  My poor doggie.  She'll be ten this October and I can't help but think that between her heart murmur and deteriorating teeth, she doesn't have long.  The vet prescribed her some meds and is doing some tests.  So we wait to figure out what's wrong.

In the meantime, I'm keeping a very close eye on her.  If I leave the room for a moment, she drops one. So everywhere I go, she goes.  If I leave a room I call her to follow, constantly glancing behind me to make sure she hasn't ruined my floor.

I am leaving her alone during work hours, in her crate, of course.  The destruction she's able to create while in it, amazes me.

But I love her.  I cried as I drove her to the vet Tuesday.  Realizing, this little dog has been with me since I was 17.  She's a piece of my family that was.  Of Galena.  Of my parents still together.  Of mom.

Oh Zoe.  Get better.

The terrified face of a dog at the vet.