A hard vet visit, during which we had to talk about things I don’t even want to think about for Gilly. Since there’s nothing to be done to stop the aging itself, and all that goes with it, we decided it was time for some anti-inflammatory to help with the arthritis: a 3 day dose, then ‘as needed,’ on one that doesn’t have the kidney and liver side effects of some of the older drugs.
Last night was the third dose, and today, after a happy and solid walk, Gilgamesh checked my pizza-plate, then punched me in the leg, then collapsed into giggles, as I did, because neither one of us quite expected him to punch me.
I think the meds have kicked in. He’s surely perky. And moving with an ease I haven’t seen in a couple of years.
This is his affect, same as it was at 8 weeks:
So we did a James Brown “I Feel Good” around the room, and I thought about this, which one of his grandmas sent this morning:
More days of love and slapstick comedy ahead for Gilly.
There will never be enough of them, but each one is treasured; past, present & future.