Down, and Up Again

When FriscoDog's ordeal began, I knew it was serious the day he gave up chasing the racquetball. Those of you who know him personally know that he never goes anywhere without a ball in his mouth, and he never used to allow me to sit for a moment without throwing the ball for him.

Indeed, even when he is barely able to walk, he expects me to throw the ball for him every time he has to peep (poop and pee). He waits, leaning, catching himself occasionally with his right foreleg, until I throw it; he tracks it down, however much it takes; and THEN he peeps. On a bad day, he bypasses me and heads straight for the back door to be let in.

Today started badly, with a bit more stumbling than usual, and an especially bad incident. I had prepared some chicken for Frisco, which got the attention of my roommate's dogs.

When I tried to take him outside to eat his meat, the other two crowded close to the door. As I opened it for him and tried to fend them off, either they spooked him, or I spooked him, but his precarious balance was upset. He conked his head hard on the left side of the doorframe, careened to the right and banged his side, hard, into the post on the other side of the door, then flopped on his left side and rolled 360 degrees. He took a moment to get up before I was able to give him his meal.

After that bad experience, he lay down by my side and slept away the day. He still insisted on following me around the house (especially when I moved toward the kitchen), but that was his only movement for hours. I tried not to do too much, so that he wouldn't feel obliged to stand and walk.

He seemed to walk better, though, as night wore on. By midnight, he clearly wanted to go outside again -- even when he realized that he'd gotten all the food he was getting. So I took him out, thinking he just wanted to be outside, in his natural element. I grabbed my computer and a good cigar, figuring on a relaxing night of work on the patio with my dog at my feet. Frisco had other ideas.

He lay next to me for a while, then got up and rummaged around until he had found one of the many racquetballs he's deposited strategically. He brought it to me, and I threw it for him, and he brought it back, and I threw it again. Most times, he found it much more quickly than he has been able to do in recent days, though once or twice it took him a while. He fetched eagerly for fifteen or twenty minutes, a recent record, before finally calling it quits and standing by the door until I let him inside.

I stayed outside, but I watched through the window as he took a long, long drink of water. His tongue doesn't work so well these days, so he discharges almost as much as he takes in, but eventually he had his fill. I half-expected him to come back out for more, but he disappeared from view and rested while I stayed outside to write this blog entry. Now I'll go inside and give him a congratulatory rub-down before going to bed.

RG

PS, Frisco's vet bills have put quite a strain on my limited finances, despite kind help from many of his friends. If you would like to contribute to Friscodog’s vet bills, you may do so at PayPal. Thank you so much, to all of you who have already done so.