Wednesday, December 8, 2010

WELL, HERE WE ARE

When I got up this morning it was 8 degrees. Now it is 10. The Bassets, at 8 degrees, go out and come in. Cooper, at the same temp., can barely get out the door because the frozen snow hurts his feet. I look out after a couple of minutes and he is curled up in the snow, all three feet tucked under him. I have to go out and encourage him in. This is not new. He has always done this. I am considering putting his boots on. Would it give him more or less traction? I do not want him to fall.

The Bassets and Cooper are a little stir crazy. Already. They spend a lot of time either sleeping or watching out the windows.

Sometimes all of them at once. Altho in this photo several seem to be more interested in what I am doing. Probably they are thinking that if I am up and moving there is a good chance I will go to the kitchen, and if I go the kitchen there is the possibility that I will be near the box of treats, and if I am near the treats and they mob me, all crying pitifully at once, I will dip my hand in and offer goodies.
They know me well.
Cooper, on the other hand, ever-vigilant, is actually watching for someone to bark at. UPS. The mailman.
The other day UPS made a huge delivery to Roger, next door. The truck was there for about 15 minutes. Cooper was in heaven.

This is what Cooper looks like without his leg. His hair is growing back but it does not appear to be growing on the actual scar. Besides he licks it. I make him stop when I catch him but he has so few pleasures as it is...

I am not at all sure how well he is. He does a lot of puking and we have him on Cerenia at the moment. There are a lot of missed meals, and a lot that simply come back, intact, a little while after he eats. He is hungry. This is a nasty disease.

The Bassets do not pay any attention to the fact that they can knock Cooper down and rush past him to get out the door. He has quit objecting. He often does not venture out into the yard, but sits on the deck.

Yesterday he went to the Gallery with me to paint. He didn't paint, I did but it might have been better if he had, since the painting is disgusting.

That's all. This is how my days are. I watch Cooper, he watches me. Conley, aware of the shift in attention is a little uneasy and asks repeatedly for extra snuggles. "I'm still here, Mom. Remember me? Liddel Conley?" He is a very snuggly boy and easy to love.

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