…The new dog wobbles, but he doesn’t fall down.
Ha. Or not.
Obviously, I picked up the little gremlin yesterday afternoon. A drive to Braselton and back again at rush hour wasn’t exactly on my agenda for the day, but I managed to fit it in with no major repercussions. Such fun.
After suffering a monstrously long seizure (thank you, Advantage) in my lap on the way home, the old fellow has been a little unsteady on his feet, to put it mildly. So for the moment, he’s consented to being carried around on his dog bed when I need to relocate him (like today, when he came to work with me to get checked out and bathed).
He is OLD, people, oh-ell-dee. And he looks every bit his age…and then some. He seems happy enough, though – all he really wants to do is sleep, and as long as he’s got a bed to cozy himself up in, he’s good. Of course, he also feels like crap at the moment, which I’m sure is contributing at least a little to his demeanor. With my luck, he’ll get cleaned up and turn out to be a raging little spitfire…which is okay too. Frankly, I’d be thrilled to see him feeling good enough to cope a ‘tude. He is seriously ancient.
See? Old. Anywho, I think I’m going with the name Belvedere, but I’m not entirely convinced. I really did want to name him Keebler, but he’s turned out to take himself far too seriously for a name like that. So we shall see.
