Seriously. Just cortisone.
He reckons that we have kicked the Immune Mediated Hemolytic Anemia (sjoe – I was really sick hey – what a long name) and that now he needs to wean me off the cortisone.
Apparently when you take extra cortisone your body gets lazy and stops making it.
Mine has got really lazy!
We have two little measly pills in the morning and another two in the evening.
I don’t even realize that mom is giving them to me half the time.
She sneaks them into teensy snacks that I tend to snatch in case I miss them – then I get into trouble for chomping her fingers. Ghah!
And from this Friday – we’ll be down to only two pills per day.
Whroof hroof!
Must say that I feel lots better.
Am still a tad weak and wishy washy – but Dr Dean says it will take a while for that wretched cortisone to wear out of my system.
I still let mom carry me up the stairs.
But actually, I can get up by myself.
Just have to climb them one by one instead of leaping up in a couple of graceful bounds.
I have realized that the most important thing in life is playing ball.
I try to fit in as many ball games as possible into a day.
If this means giving mom the nose and disturbing her – so be it.
In the morning, when Alpha goes off to work – Mom looks at me and shakes the leash.
You want to go for a walk Fudgie-wena?
I lie there and blink my eyes. Perhaps not hey!
Are you sure? She dangles the leash under my nose.
Definitely.
She comes inside and closes the front door.
I dash onto the stoep, ball clamped firmly in my chops, wagging my tail.
Please note that I said “dash”.
A few weeks ago I did no dashing.
Dashing had been obliterated from my doggie dictionary.
Now I can dash.
Ooohhhh, says mom.
No walk – but you want to play ball?
I do my waggledy pig dance. Yup.
So we go outside and she lobs the ball for me.
A couple of times.
Then she hulas around the garden a bit, and afterwards throws a few more balls for me.
Then the day begins.
