The Anchoress is going through the sort of suffering that the owners of old and beloved pets find themselves in. Begging her dog to just taste a soft-boiled egg.
It makes me think of when our Daffy would only eat banana bread. When she would not even eat it from my hand anymore then I knew it was time for her to go.
Somehow pets can twist us up like that. Even when they are not aged and ill.
As I well know from this week's experiences. Zoe, our female Boxer had a tiny tumor removed (cancerous, but they got all the edges). They had to remove so much skin that they weren't sure the staples would hold the edges together. She promptly tested them upon returning home by joyously leaping over a low patio wall not once, not twice, not even thrice, but four times. The stitches withstood that.
But wait, there's more.
She has an E-collar (cone of shame) and it is clear so she rams into everything full speed. Including the backs of people's legs. I now have a line of bruises up the back of the leg she favors trotting behind.
Her collar now has surgical wrap around the outside edge to help her "see" it and around the neck edge because all that ramming was rubbing a sore on her neck.
She has figured out how to prop her collar against her body and extend her head (kind of like the jaws in Aliens) so as to get to her itching leg and managed to remove the middle stitches.
Several days of repeatedly rebandaging the leg followed. THEN in order to alleviate the problems being caused by the draconian and frequent rebandaging needed to keep her from dislodging the wrapping ... yesterday they wound up bandaging her from hip to bottom of paw. Which we can't get wet, so we have to somehow affix a plastic baggie to her foot whenever she goes out. Of course, it rained last night.
We won't even get into the fact that it has taken her several days to figure out how to eat and drink without us holding little bowls to her collar. Now that she has, there is the fun that comes from her triumphant whipping of her head aloft when she is finished. Whatever was left in the bowl goes flying.
I am so very grateful that Rose has been home all week (though Rose may be less so at this point) so that there is someone to keep an eye on this crazy dog during this ordeal.
Oh the things we go through for our dear pets.