Well, the pit of my stomach is now right around my ankles.
Last night we were fixing to go to bed. Robert asked me to let out Brymer and Nellie and Jade while he threw hay to the horses. Nellie was up in his chair. She moved towards me and laid up against the pillow on her right side. Her head was cocked to the left, her tongue was out.
I know that posture. She was having a stroke. I held her while it happened then took her outside . She walked bad to the left. Her head was locked. And while she came out of it fairly quickly - much faster than Brymer did, still, she was groggy. I felt like the world was collapsing in toward my belly.
This dog is going to die. The clock is ticking for both her and Brymer. What will I do? They're just dogs. Just stupid little dogs . . .
What am I going to do?
The Fam!
All Us Huttons
2 comments:
You'll do just what we did when Smudge died; you'll cry until you hurt, and cry some more; you will think you see them scurry through the room and you'll ache to pet them.
And they are NOT just stupid little dogs; they are your friends and dear pets, and I will be there with you.
They are not "just stupid little dogs." You love them so they are much more than that.
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