It’s rainy and chilly outside compared to the past few weeks. Henry is on the bottom layer of the pet pile, under a thick blanket. On the other side of the blanket, Pickle is curled up against him having finished with wreaking havoc on the outside world. With his back against Pickle’s, George is doing is best imitation of a being a member of the Snore Orchestra.
Yesterday we celebrated Henry’s 17th birthday. It was a quieter celebration this year, no wild party at the park or kegs of beer. Instead he woke up to a dog massage, lots of hugs and gratitude that he is still here with us. He did get organic raw beef for dinner instead of a McDonald’s cheeseburger. He didn’t seem to mind the difference.
Later on the evening, he did get a small piece of pizza crust. I am amazed by his drive. He’s quite fragile now and yet when he wants to resist something, it’s like trying to push over a German Shepherd. Or perhaps it’s that he looks fragile as he is mostly bald now and we underestimate that steady, stubborn dachshund streak. What has changed is that he is much more relaxed about being held. The boys have always been the kind of dogs who would cuddle up next to you but didn’t like being held. Maybe that is small dog street smarts – like don’t pick me up, stranger danger!
Now there are multiple times in the day where I can pick him up and hold him in my lap and he just sits there and hangs out. It’s particularly soothing (for me anyway) when I am videocalling. It could also be that he is cold. We’ll find out when we leave for Spain at the end of October for a month to live in a village.
Happy Birthday, Henry! Thank you for all the love you give. We love you!