Last week Billy the deaf dog was not very well. He came to work on Monday as usual but was not really himself, he couldn’t walk properly and was really finding it hard work to breath. He wouldn’t have the chicken treats he comes into my room looking for, and he hadn’t eaten all weekend either. By 2 o clock Brenda (and me) was really worried so she hoyed him in the car and took him to the vet. She had to leave him there as she had patients booked in. Later on after I got home I saw on Brenda’s Facebook that he was OK again, they’d given him diuretics for water on his lungs, but told her he was in heart failure, but could keep him going yet a while.
So he’s back to work and seems a bit better in himself. When we take him out for a little walk he trots along happily enough sniffing the air, and car-park posts, and grass, and the walls ๐ ๐. However, as Brenda says, his near brush with death seems to have given him an appetite for the finer things in life, as he now won’t eat dog food at all, but has to have cooked chicken or ham. There may not be much of his left, but Billy is determined to have a ‘dogs life’ until the end. Fingers crossed that’s a long way away, I would very much miss this dear little chap.