I'm not sure if I mentioned (but I'm sure you've forgotten anyways) but Sitka is old. Last summer, almost overnight, he was unable to hold up his back end. Then he had difficulty lifting his head, as if he were in pain. We blamed it on his old-man-aritis.
In my usual fashion, I choose to ignore the problem in hopes that it would get better. There is no problem if you don't acknowledge it, right? But it got bad. Sitka could hardly walk. While he's never been able to walk in a straight line, it now was not by choice. His back end would wander one direction, and it was rarely the same as his front was going.
So, to the vet he went! Thinking maybe he had just strained something, the vet gave him a little acupuncture and cold laser therapy. Then, the kicker. With a absolutely straight face, and it seems in completely ignorance/denial of the eight month pregnant, rotund women in front of her, requested that he not be allowed to go up or down stairs on his own. He needed to be carried. By Mom, who was hardly able to maneuver her own protuberance around. That dog is dang lucky the only stairs we have number three.
Then, therapy was suggested. Not sure if it was sad. Or amusing. Or entertaining. Or heartbreaking.
But, it seemed to really help. He seemed to get strong enough to at least walk around the house.
It was a long winter. It seemed as though he would never really fully recover from his old-man-aritis. After he pee'd, it looked similar to somebody trying to write their name in the snow. Then almost as quickly as he lost his strength, it came back a couple of weeks ago. He can get back on the porch to come in the house, and runs. Oh, he loves running. The kicker? Amelia found him sleeping on the couch, which any other time would have been a no-no. We were just so pleased, and he was so weirded out he got off!
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