Almost Free

Last night we had a minor crisis with Clancy. I was out to dinner with Chetna, who is moving back to India soon, and my son, Michael, called. Clancy had not laid down since 5:30, when we had gotten back from renting Michael’s tux for the prom, and right before I left to go to Burbank to see Chetna. The dog was standing, or barely walking, he had tried to sit a couple of times, and he was whining. Michael wanted to know where the doggy sedatives were so they could get him to lay down and go to sleep. They had already given him a pain pill, and he still wouldn’t lay down.  

Clancy on Sunday

 

 By the time I got home, Clancy was out cold on the family room floor. I woke up at 3:30 and he had come into our room to his bed. I called the vet this morning and got an appointment for 11:30, and I couldn’t get him into my minivan. He wouldn’t even go up the wooden steps for the hot tub when I put them next to the open side door; which is how we got him to the vet last time. He’ll let Irv pick him up and put him in the car, but he weighs at least 70 pounds, and I can’t lift him. I changed the appointment to 5:00, when Michael will be home, and maybe he can put Clancy in the car.  

So, is this it, the beginning of the end? The end of an era? Could I almost be free?  Michael is going to college in the fall. I wonder if the dog will survive the summer. Could this really be happening now? Is it too much to hope for, or just the right amount?  

I know people who are devastated when they lose their dogs. Do you think it would be unseemly to celebrate, maybe just a little? Maybe just a quiet “YES!” with an inward fist pump?   

Have I mentioned here how much I hate this dog; how much he’s been the bane of my existence for the past 12 1/2 years? Did I already say that?

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2 comments so far

  1. Lance Knapp on

    Super interesting read! Really.

  2. Samantha K. on

    You know you looooooooooove him.


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