It started Monday after our walk. Hooper's back legs collapsed as he was trying to get up the front steps. I had to carry him up the steps and then for the rest of the evening, he'd struggle so hard while trying to get up off the floor, I'd have to go help him. This coming right on the heals of Suebob's story of having to say goodbye to her Goldie made my whole being sink. I made an appointment for us to see the vet to see what our next course of action should be. The good news is that Hooper is relatively healthy. His heart sounded good. He's eating and pooping normally. The vet was very optimistic. He started Hooper on some anti-inflammatory drugs and drew blood for a whole geriatric work up. He thinks Hooper may have a hyper thyroid issue, but that's easily dealt with. The bad news is that Hooper has a growth on his back leg. The vet thinks it's most likely a fat deposit from the thyroid issue, but it needs to come out. I told the vet about our year of deaths starting with Chris in February. I made my 62 year old grissly veterinarian get all choked up. He said "Well, then...we need to keep this dog around for a little while longer". Yes sir, we do.
Hooper is thirteen. By one chart on the vet's wall, that makes him 82 years old. He's not doing too bad for an old man and there's no reason that he won't be around with us for another couple of years. The other night, I watched him go bounding across the backyard after a squirrel. He's still got some spry left in him. I love that stupid mutt.
Happy Love Thursday!