So, I suppose this week was his Annual Flirt with Death, maybe? He does seem to do *something* on a yearly basis to get us both super-worried about him.
The cough meds he was given made him a thousand times worse, and so yesterday and the day before were bad. Really, really bad. Last night was okay — a couple of coughing fits in the middle of the night, and more of them tending toward weak coughing fits rather than all out coughing — and a few more mild coughs this morning into the afternoon.
Tonight I was greeted at the door by a whirling, twirling dog, who shoved me with his nose all the way across the house, “helping” me find my way to where my stuff needed to be put away. He tolerated me draping myself around him and snuggling the stuffing out of him. He started playing the hard-to-get game that he plays with Beth when she’s trying to take him out. (Just Beth; it’s their special game). He’s super engaged, the twinkle is back in his eye, and he’s shamelessly gobbling up all the extra food we’re giving him to put weight back on him.
I love this dog. I love this dog so fucking much. He is amazing. He is wonderful. He is stubborn as all get out — and you all fucking rock, too, because I know his devoted fanbase is a hugeh part of why he’s recovering so fast.
I leave you with the song we’ve been signing for him for the last few days. It truly is his theme song.