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The Dog is sick. They-don’t-know-what’s-wrong-with-her $800 and a hospital stay later sick. Not good. She’s old. She’s kind of falling apart. But she’s a great dog that I hope will stay around until Tater Tot can remember her. She’s had some infections during the past couple of years that seem to get resolved but recur later. And this past year it has become evident that it’s just harder for her to get around. She clunk-clunks up our stairs every night to plop down on her bed in our room but lately, she will sometimes just stay downstairs. She’s been diagnosed with hip dysplasia for several years and she’s just in pain, poor thing. She has generally been in good health for an older dog but seems to pick up infections more easily as she has gotten older.

The Dog is a great little Pembroke Welsh Corgi with such a sweet disposition. She even won over The Grandmother (The Mommy’s Mom), which is no small feat! She always looks like she’s smiling but, if you come to the door, you will be convinced that we have a big mean dog living here because she is protective of her People. Once the door is open, however, she will hound you for lovin’ until you give in. Somehow I don’t think she’d be much good during a burglary…

I’ve known The Dog for over 8 years, from the time she was a young adult racing down the river embankment to chase The Ball when we lived up north. The Daddy has had The Dog since she was a puppy. Around 12 years. She’s a herding dog which means that, when it’s mealtime, she’ll nose your heels toward the food container and all the way to her bowl. Every once in a while she’ll come up to me and stick her nose under my arm to let me know she wants some lovin’. If I’m busy, she doesn’t care. She does it again until I get the message that I need to NOT be busy and give her some attention!

She’s a smart little lady who just gets out of the way when Tater Tot starts toddling toward her. She beats it up the stairs, no matter how painful or jets around the corner to another of her favorite resting places. Anywhere but where the hair-pulling, head-smacking little one is! Of course, it’s a love-hate relationship because Tater Tot is also the one who most frequently drops Cheerios for The Dog to eat…

The Daddy is taking her back to the vet today because, after bringing her home last night, she just doesn’t seem okay. She’s not interested in food, which for her (or any dog) is highly unusual and seems pretty miserable. I’m worried (big surprise). They don’t seem to know what’s wrong with her after doing bloodwork yesterday. Not good.