Here’s my dog. His name is Bear. I didn’t name him. I’m a little more creative than that. But, it was the only thing he knew when I got him, so I kept it.
I don’t really talk about my dog. Yeah, he’s cute and great, but that’s between us. So this will probably be the only entry about him…until his death, which could be any day…
Ever since I inherited Bear, I’ve been afraid for his death. I know this is insane. You don’t have to tell me. But, he’s accident prone. And he’s had a few medical problems. Okay, I’ve been overreacting for 14 years.
I’m more worried about his death than I am about my own. In fact, I don’t give a rip about my own death. But I really don’t want my ward to die. I know he will. You don’t have to tell me about the circle of life. Elton John’s covered that ground. It’s just that Bear’s my responsibility. If he dies because of some bad choice I made…I don’t want to think about it…but I can’t help thinking about it.
The picture above is of his latest accident. It was a few weeks ago. A ripped dew claw. This is his second set of dew claws. I had his first set, the originals, removed when he had a tumor on his foot. They grew back. No one has ever heard of this happening. A miracle!
Here’s the thing. Bear’s my pal. You know, 14 years is a long time to spend next to any living being. But, I’m not eulogizing him just yet. Hold on, let me check if he’s still breathing. Okay. He’s fine. So, until then, the death watch continues.
