He's baaaaack....

Jeeze, I hate to admit this....but I will.  I am hiding from my own dog.  Yep.  Seriously, I am.  I am about to go shoot..... dirty... street.... heroin.... because he is driving me nuts.  I thought his doggie meds would knock off the whining but it hasn't.  And now he's right here at my feet.  Again.  With a wet nose.  For nudging.  And a whiner, for whining.  And now I'm whining.  A LOT.  I'm trying desperately to remember to be grateful for every single day I have him because some day I'm going to wake up without him.  And I'll be so sad.  Teary sad.  And I'll miss that wet cold nudging nose.  Oh, the hell I will.  And I won't miss the whining either.  But, I will miss him.  No doubt about it.

My neighbor down the block who works at the Zoo and is a notorious animal rescuer was able to validate how I feel.  She was walking shift one of three shifts of her dogs--she has so many she doesn't bring them all out at once since she's probably not supposed to have as many as she does.  Plus, some of them are old and have to creep at a slower pace, so she has them set up in  groups, three or four to a group.  Anyway, when I stopped her and asked if she still had cats, she rolled her eyes and said she yes, and did I want one.  I told her no, updated her on the Muff man's departure, and asked her if she wanted his left over bag of litter, litter box, and cat food.   When I told her he'd gotten really sick and we'd put him to sleep, she totally got how exhausting old animals can be and we had a great gabfest on just this topic.  She wasn't whining as much as just commiserating.  It was so great to have somebody else just acknowledge how I feel.

Which brings me full circle back to the Wigman, who is back at his command post (my feet), after I literally carried his bad self outside to poop.  OK....maybe that was more information that you wanted to know but remember now, I'm tellin' it like it is.  After considerable whining, I carried him...yep, I did....to the back door and opened it for him, despite it was the backyard side and he could have gone out his doggie door.  Door open and opportunity knocking...??  Sure was, but... he.... wasn't.... going.  Back in here he waddled.  More whining.  Repeat performance by me, only this time I took any possible choice of not going outside, out of the equation.  And off he waddled, to do his bid'nes.   Now, is it just me or does this sound a bit extreme??  I am now carrying him outside, to shut him up, and he's capable of going out his doggie door for the exact same purpose??  Now, I'm no Dog Whisperer but I think this old, German, man-dog has control issues.  And I know who is controlling whom.  And I am clearly not winning here.  Not by a long shot.