Jam is home with me again, having yet another spell of limping, this time on a back leg. This is the 3rd or 4th time he's had the problem. He's in no apparent pain. He doesn't mind if you touch the leg or give it a massage (in fact, he seems to like that very much). Dr. Woodman has checked him out, with x-rays and tests, and there's no sign of a problem other than a generic case of growing pains, and there's nothing to be done other than rest. He's on doggy pain killers while we wait this out.
Years ago Cheryl and I had a dog named Thud who suffered with hip dysplasia as a small puppy. My mother, who had grown up during the depression and had raised 4 boys after my father died, was surprised when we told her that we planned to have surgery on Thud. "You didn't operate on dogs in my day," she said. But then one day she was at our house when little Thud tried to jump up on the couch and he let out a cry that would break your heart. My mom was in tears and could not be consoled. When we explained that the surgery would make Thud's pain go away, she was suddenly very much in favor of the idea. (He lived a long pain-free life after the surgery.)
And though Jam does not cry out or appear to be in pain, we can tell that he doesn't feel quite right. Even Willow knows that something is wrong. She will go into another room and make a noise that sounds like "roooof", inviting him to come play, which is very much not like her. Who knows what she is thinking--maybe she wonders if he's mad at her?
In any case, we will be glad when crazy Jam is back. He brings more than his share of happiness into the house.
|Willow and Jam, Best Friends|