Caring for the Elderly… Dogs, That Is…

So here I am on a Saturday night doin’ my usual thing. Got off work, interacted with kids who were still awake and then sent them to bed, then started drinking (not a lot but am on my second) and reading some of my fav Mommy blogs. ( I don’t insert links here because I’m still not that sure on the legality of all that, but if you know feel free to comment, still learning & all) So I’m reading so funny stuff, some stuff that makes me feel compelled to comment, etc, when I get that look from the dog. That look probably means he needs to go out again so I start the process of conveying to him that I am willing (as the owner of the opposable thumbs) to take him out. Why is this a process? This dog (not mine) is over 14 years old, he can’t see anymore, maybe shapes, but he never did learn to communicate well enough to share what he can see with me. He also has seizures, everything from mild twitching to full on, Charlie’s (his name) not comin’ back from this one. He also now wears a sweater, he shivers without it, I mean shivers & looks at you with those accusing yet unseeing eyes for hours. Last night I wrestled his shivering body into his sweater, he didn’t bite me, I assume this is an improvement in our relationship as I have never really liked this dog nor he like me. (there was an incident regarding shoe homicide when I was 17 that I have never forgiven him for) Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, he’s also deaf, you could scream/shout/etc in this dog’s face, not even a flinch. Why on earth, you ask, would I scream in a dog’s face?! I happen to love dogs, hope to one day (when it would be more fiscally responsible) be a proud doggie mommy. This dog pees. So all dogs pee, this one is incontinent. He will walk around a room & pee the entire time, on your foot, on your groceries (ewwwww!), on whatever is in his path. So yeah, everyone in this house has screamed the words “Charlie! Stop!” to no avail. He also has skin lumps & tags all over, along with age spots that show up very clearly when he gets a haircut. (this has got to be one of the most unattractive/irritating/yet pitiful dogs on the planet) So back to my happening Saturday night with the internet. Every 20 to 30 minutes I get stared at with those unseeing eyes, & hop up (cause cleaning up the pee will definitely cramp my night as I am wearing footie pjs & once again, ewww). Then I have to move down the stairs to let him out, except he can’t see that’s what I’m doing. So here I am in my bright red footies stomping on the floor (so he will notice the vibrations) & saying things like, “come on. Let’s go. HEY! CHARLIE! Over here!” Did I mention the little get-Charlie’s-attention-by jumping up and-down-like-a nutcase dance I’m doing? That’s right I’m doing a more involved entice-you-to-go-potty-dance than I ever did for my kids. For the dog. The dog I don’t like. *sigh* Then we get down the stairs & I get him outside. Victory! I let him back in, brr it really is cold tonight, and we go back upstairs. I back to my internet trolling, he back to laying in front of the heating vent in the kitchen. And then about 20 minutes later? The same thing. Lol

Have you ever cared for an elderly pet? Tell me about it. (Or just get it off your chest-I know I feel better)

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3 thoughts on “Caring for the Elderly… Dogs, That Is…

  1. I had two ferrets that got adenomas and kept them alive long after everybody would say it was reasonable. They would be less difficult to care for than an old dog, I mean they make little pools and small poops… Both needed to be hand fed baby food (gerber chicken) and it had to be done frequently…. or even a more nutritious special and very expensive meal with all the vitamins etc, that I had to force feed to them using a syringe during their “fasting” cycles when they’d refuse to eat… They would go from being almost normal to being on the verge of dying. My daughter still has one, Gordo. Chiquita, his litter mate, died two weeks ago. We just do these crazy things for pets. Some of us at least do….

  2. Pingback: Noah, Gilgamesh, and Mama « mamaskitchentable

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