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Sunday, November 08, 2009

Barley (Not Looking Good)

I think Barley the Dog Faced Boy had a stroke.

Yesterday, he seemed deaf, and when I went to give him his meds in a marshmallow, he kept dropping the marshmallow out of his mouth. He didn't seem to be hearing anything, you had to poke him to get his attention. He wasn't steady on his pins.

Usually, if I go to the closet where the leash is, he freaks out, wanting to go for a walk. Now, he doesn't even seem to recognize the leash.

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Today he seems to hear, and I'm hoping his brain will reroute what it takes to get him going up and down stairs reliably again. He doesn't seem to be in pain, but if you stroke his back, even gently, there's a good chance it'll knock him off his feet. And like I say, the stairs aren't happening and that won't work long term.

I can take food and water down to him for a few days while the weather is mild, but long term, if he doesn't recover enough for the stairs, I have to take him on that one way trip to the vet.

He's about ten years old, I think he was three months old when we got him about after Mo turned three, and she turns thirteen in three months.

And he's a great dog. Fabulous. Not as big as I hoped he'd grow to, but pound dogs are a crap shoot that way. Good-natured as all get out, protective of the herd, even saved Mo one night back when I was still married, whining to get out, the artist formerly known as Frau Lobster thought, but it was really that Mo was up, had opened the garage door and was playing in the driveway at 3:00 a.m.

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