Really hard stuff to write.

[reynardo]

dogorcuton is getting very old, very fast. He's having trouble walking, can't see very well, can't hear much either, and spends a lot of time snoozing.

Most times he can't find his way out the back to pee, so we're doing a lot of cleaning up after him.

The vet today took some blood, and is checking to see if Cuton's kidneys can handle a higher anti-inflammatory, which will help with the walking.

The poor old thing is shivering a lot of the time, and we think it's more pain and unsteadiness than cold. And his tail?

His tail barely wags any more. Those who met him would know that Cuton's tail is usually on full-bore, all the time. Now? A pathetic wiggle.

Mind you, at the Vet, he perked right up and was wanting to go exploring. And he crapped on the floor, so that part of him is working well.

As is his sense of smell... sort of. He got some chicken today. It disappeared as if inhaled.

But ... yes. He's getting old. And then I remembered this. Which is making me cry.

I love you, Cuton. Even if you stole all that chocolate. And all those danishes. And the cheese. And the whole Christmas Cake. And left your smelly bone in the wardrobe...