Thursday's Child ... has far to go ... (0nm10wn2feet) wrote,
Thursday's Child ... has far to go ...
0nm10wn2feet

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Post #2 - an update...

Ok, the goofy dog seems to have some sort of middle ear problem that occasionally happens with older dogs.  It affects his balance, off and on, making him seem like he's drunk or something.  The only way I can describe it is that it's roughly similar to what happens when humans have Meneer's Disease.  It affects their balance until their eyes adjust.  The initial onset usually lasts a couple of weeks, then the symptoms lessen and they may or may not have another attack in the future.

It doesn't hurt, it just messes with their poor doggy brains.  That's really funny to watch in Hobbes' case, though.  He's a Samoyed, so he's got all this white fluff all over him and when he cocks his head (his attempt to make things look 'right'), he just looks... GOOFY.  Especially with those 'InuYasha' ears of his sticking up.  At least the vet didn't find anything else wrong with the poor bugger, though.  We were afraid he'd had a stroke or something like that.

The funniest part (for me) was watching MSK load and unload the poor animal from the car.  I TOLD the man that the stupid dog weighed more than 55 lbs., but does he listen??  Not for an instant - until we got into the vet's office and they weighed the dog.  Seventy-six lbs. and some change.... HA!  MSK's only comment was "Well, he doesn't LOOK like he weighs that much when he's soaking wet."  Silly man.  At least he could then understand why I didn't really want to try boosting the poor critter in and out of the pick-up truck!

The next funny part was when we were discussing our relief at not being faced with the prospect of putting the beast out of his 'misery.'  I told MSK that Hobbes was probably the last dog we'd be getting, then he said, "Well, maybe for a couple years, anyway."  I just looked at him.  He's always complaining that no one wants to do anything with the dog, always bitching about the messes, rarely helps clean them, and he thinks we're EVER gonna have another one??  What a dork.  But I smiled sweetly at him and said, "Ok, this one was MY mistake, you get to pick the next one!"  To which he replied, "Well, he hasn't really been THAT bad."  What a hoot.  Men... I just don't understand them some days.

At any rate, we came home with some meds that will help the moose to acclimate to his slight problem and are confident that he has at least a few more good years left in him.  Hooray for small favors, huh?  Hey, I take 'em where I can get 'em these days, y'know?
;D
~~me~~

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