Okay fine. Maybe I am not talking since I only bark on VERY rare occasions at tree trimmers who give my mom outrageous quotes to cut down a tree. HOWEVER, I do walk. Last night, Mom and I took a short walk. At first, I was eager to go, trying to charge away. When Mom asked if I wanted to go for a walk, I became so excited! A walk?
For the last 4 months, anytime a leash was attached to my collar, I would be riding in the car to the veterinarian for chemotherapy or an examination. This time, the leash meant freedom. Freedom to sniff the ground. Freedom to greet neighborhood dogs. Freedom to take a big poop for mom to pick up.
Once I knew we were going for a real legitimate walk, I charged away. Because this is my first real walk in a while (mom wanted to get the okay before she exercised me too much), I did become fatigued fairly quickly. We made it part way down the block and around the corner when mom decided that I had enough. I was panting, but not too hard. She thought I was panting hard enough to bring me back home. We headed back slowly. No need to rush! I need to take my time: Time to enjoy the great expanse of the night sky; Time to savor the smells; Time to hear the calls of the suburban wildlife.
Dad arrived home at about the time we finished our walk and greeted me. I returned his greeting with a big tail wag. After the walk, mom made sure I had a big bowl of water at my disposal. Before I could eat, she waited a good half hour to 45 minutes so that I would cool down and not become sick from eating. Finally, I ate my usual Iams Lamb and Rice (it's the only food that doesn't give me stinky farts) and spent the evening with mom and dad watching TV.
It was a good day in the Finnegan household.
Labels: canine osteosarcoma, mobility, walking