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Goddamn, Buster is lucky I love him so much (+ ongoing health issues)

This dog is going to be the death of me, I swear.

When I got home last night, the kitchen garbage can was on its side and a bunch of stuff on the counter had been knocked down. He’d pushed the portable dog stairs (which he’s supposed to use to get on the couch, but generally doesn’t) over to the kitchen, lined them up next to the garbage can, and then climbed from there to the garbage can to the counter. THIS IS NOT A TRICK I APPROVE OF. Although it’s hard to be mad at him, considering the ingenuity of the thing.


Unfortunately, he’s still having health issues. We went to the park on New Year’s Day, and at one point he squatted down to wipe his butt after pooping and started screaming again. It was almost exactly like last time — he screamed for maybe 15 seconds, and then he seemed largely OK again. I carried him to the car and called the emergency vet as soon as we got home, but they said as long he’s still eating, drinking and eliminating normally, I should just give him some gabapentin and make an appointment with his neurologist.

He is still eating/drinking/eliminating normally, but he’s definitely in pain or otherwise out of sorts. He’s been REALLY clingy — he wants to be in my lap with me petting him and giving him all my attention (i.e., not watching TV/reading/talking on the phone/petting Sophie/etc.) a whole lot of the time. I’ve been late to work the last two days because it took so long to get him calmed down enough so I could leave. We’re taking very short walks, and while he seems to be walking and squatting normally, his tail has been drooping, and yesterday he actually wanted me to carry him, which almost never happens.


Naturally his neurologist is booked until late next week, but they’re trying to find a way to fit him in earlier — fingers crossed. It just breaks my heart to see him so out of sorts, and I’m really afraid this may be another huge thing that requires surgery, which would be hell on both of us, not to mention crazy expensive.

My poor sweet boy. I hate that he can’t tell me what’s wrong.

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