“Heaven goes by favor. If it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in.”
The sun appeared for a few minutes then went into hiding behind the clouds. The day is overcast but still light, none of the darkness of the last few days. A damp chill is in the air and a breeze is blowing. It’s an okay day.
Gracie’s panting was so heavy that she shook the bed and woke me at 1:30. She was gulping so I knew her stomach was upset. It happens every now and then. We went downstairs, and I let her out to hunt for grass to eat to settle her stomach. She came back inside about 20 minutes later, and we went back to bed. In not too much time, the bed began to shake again so downstairs we went and out she went. She came in and we went to bed but she kept moving around as she was unable to get comfortable and then came the panting. By this time it was 2:30, and I had yet to fall back to sleep. I went upstairs and brought down a sheet and pillow and went to try to fall asleep on the couch. Gracie joined me. Neither of us slept. She started panting again. This time she was out so long I went out on the deck to make sure she was okay. It was around 3:30. When she came back in, I fed her some fronds from the spider plant. She ate everyone and then went back outside. When she came in this last time, she went into her crate and stood looking at me. That is the universal sign for a treat so I gave her one which she ate then another. Gracie was just fine. It was 4 o’clock when we both went back to bed.
My dog Duke, when he was pretty old, got into a horrible dog fight with the huge dog down the street. Duke got the worst of it. He had really bad wounds on his neck where the dog had grabbed him. This never happened when Duke was in his younger days, when he was the scourge of the dogs in the neighborhood but age had slowed him down. My mother wanted him brought to the vets; my father said he’d be fine.
In those days, my dad worked on the Cape all week and came home only on weekends. We were moving there but not until after school was finished for the year. When my dad left the Monday after the dog fight, my mother brought Duke to the vet who took care of the bite wound with a few stitches and a shot or two. By the time my dad got home at the end of the week, the wounds were well on their way to healing. My dad checked out Duke when he got home and said to my mother, ” I told you nature would take care of it.” None of us ever mentioned the trip to the vet’s.Explore posts in the same categories: Musings comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.