I missed Dogs on Thursday yesterday, in part because we were in transit, but mostly because I was in tears. (Note: no knitting content here.) Yes, we need to vacuum, sweep and otherwise remove Fred's excessive shedding evidence, but this was snapped moments after we returned from a week out of town. Some of you know Fred's spine basically self-fused several years ago, and our incredible sitter/friend tried to tell Mark on Wednesday that Fred was worse than usual. Mark insisted that Fred has bad days, but all was okay. Wrong. There's a reason you should choose a pet sitter carefully, because Tony knows our dogs almost as well as we do, and Fred was hurting.
Indeed he is. His hind end simply doesn't work much right now. The boys had a small scuffle Sunday, and we were all focused on the tiny wound near Mugsy's eye. Ha! Big ol' Fred threw his back out (just like me!), and no one noticed. Now, we've known for years that the day might come when chronic pain was an issue for our honey hound, but I was ill-prepared to face it after a long day of riding (read: my own back pain), and after being away from my darling dogs for nearly a week.
The good news is, Dr. Nancy the Awesome has prescribed a narcotic and "bed rest" for three days. If there is no improvement, then I'll drag the old man (Fred, not Mark!) to the vet for a look-see. Otherwise, he'll see Dr. Nancy at the end of the month for his annual stuff AND a thorough exam. She's pretty sure he just twisted and/or pinched something in the fight, and that he'll be back to his rather limited, sluggish version of normal very soon. Sigh. Why can't the best dogs live forever?