Handsome Old Man.
Handsome Old Yankee Man.
A few months ago, he was fading.
Our 132 pound, 10 1/2-year-old Bernese Mountain Dog seemed to have pushed life as far as he could, being a very large boy.
We did tests, we gave medicine (in cheese, and boy does Monty love his cheese). And, yet, it looked like he was done.
He wasn’t eating much, and had dropped over 30 pounds in six months.
At first, we thought he had eaten something (Monty has a thing for socks and underwear, and we are very careful. His past surgeries led to the name, “The Six Million Dollar Dog”). But he was eating, and he wasn’t in distress, and he wasn’t showing the signs of having any sort of obstruction.
Then we scanned for tumors and found none. Then more exotic and demonic causes were searched for.
We couldn’t figure it out.
We were assuming the worst.
Then, when his appetite decreased drastically, we gave him an appetite stimulant.
And all of a sudden he showed signs of having eaten something that was stuck.
So we took him in, and surgery happened and, voila!
We still don’t know what he ate. It is a mystery to us all (and we have all stared at it repeatedly. Yep. We are that sick and twisted).
Regardless, he is back from the brink and has regained his weight and he is now waiting for the next time he can wiggle and roll and slobber and snuggle with his person, Number-One-Son-Sam.
Monty is Sam’s dog.
Or Sam is Monty’s person.
Actually, both work.
When Sam is away – whether for an hour with a friend, a few hours at a gig or lesson, or a few months at school between vacations home – Monty waits.
I mean, sure, he happily accepts cheese, and will snuggle on the floor with me (and will cause the other dogs to rush, willy-nilly, to the door with one ‘boof’, low and deep), but I get the distinct impression he is always waiting.
There is something different about this big, old dog when his person is home.
Sure, I could be projecting.
All that science-y stuff.
So, I suppose I should just give in.
Tell you that Monty is not, perhaps, ‘missing’ Sam. Maybe he is not ‘waiting’ for him to return.
Let’s do an experiment, shall we?
The photo up top is Monty, looking at the camera as I said, “Monty, what a good boy. Look at my camera.”
Now I am going to go back and lie on the floor and snap a few photos.
Here I go.
Now I’m going to ask him if he misses ‘Sammy’.
Screw you, science!
Now I’m going to get him some cheese.
And we are going to snuggle.
Don’t worry, Monty.
Your boy will be home soon.
Thanks for readin’.
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