Old Age Is Not For Sissies

Trooper at the vets. Photos with camera phone.

Trooper, as I have noted for a long time is OLD. He is just about deaf as a post now, and his back legs are so weak you can push him over while patting him on the head.

Yesterday, my daughter came up the driveway a little too fast, and accidentally hit Trooper with her car. She was, of course, mortified and the dog was rushed to the vet.


The sign in my study.

The long story short, is that there does not seem to be anything broken, and damage seems to be restricted to one paw. Of course, that's enough to make it so he cannot stand, what with his back legs being so wobbly even before all this.

What to do?

Trooper does not seem to be in pain, and I have decided to give the old man a few days to see how it goes. Time will tell.

This is Trooper, after all; he has slipped the coils of death before and remains a lamplight for hope.

There is no getting out of this world alive, and Trooper does not have long. His day will come, but as of yesterday and this morning, I am not sure his day has come quite yet.

I will not be too late, but I will not be too early either. At age 50, I have seen a few miracles. Life wants to live, and my job is simply to control pain and make sure the exit is as dignified as possible.

Trooper does not seem to be in pain, and though his dignity is bruised, he still grins, even if he cannot stand and needs help going to the bathroom as a consequence.

We shall see....


Old age is not for sissies.
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