Work has been tiring me out the last couple of days. I won't get into details, but we're hanging an exhibition, and between going up and down ladders, and the usual "museum sickness" or "museum legs" one can experience when spending inordinate amounts of time IN a museum's galleries, I have been too tuckered to write.
So I'm getting my butt off the couch/bed/floor and putting it into the computer chair.
First bit of news: Chauncey has injured himself. Again. I haven't written too much about C-dog, but I should tell you that neither me nor Beckmann has ever had a dog with more physical and emotional "issues." We're crazy about him, but really! Last evening Beckmann and Chauncey went out to the fields to bring his girlfriend back to her own house. (C-dog's girl is a tiny, aggressive Jack Russell who lives next door. She is the love of his life). Sometimes he comes back without any trouble, but often he catches the scent of a deer or a rabbit, and will run like the wind and not come back for several minutes. This is what happened last night, and after about 25 minutes he returned. Limping. His back right leg lifted pathetically, needing to be lifted himself, into bed, barely lifting his head to respond to us.
If this were any other dog, I would worry. But it's Chauncey. I used to worry about his many mishaps, heatstrokes, unexplained under-the-bed forays for hours at a time, anxiety after having rolled in pheasant poop. He can look more pathetic than any other dog you have seen. Ears down, amber gaze rolling pathetically away from us, limp body.
So very sad. And then the phone rings. It's his girlfriend's owner. He can hear his voice. Ears up! Jump into the air! Race around the house like it's Christmas -- AGAIN!!! OMG, OMG, OMG!!! Is it her? Will I get to see HER?
And it's as if nothing ever happened. Beckmann did NOT take him over to see her today,(her name is Sammy, btw), because he knew that C-dog would reinjure himself. But we have evidence that his injury seems to have improved. He mostly only limps when he just gets up from a nap, or when he forgets and jumps up to take off Beckmann's hat (from his head. And Beckmann is 6' tall), and lands on his arse.
After his last depressive episode we took him to the vet who checked all of his vitals, his blood, his joints, his whole little doggie self. "I don't think there is anything PHYSICALLY wrong with him. I think it's anxiety." Said with a look of bewilderment.
And the story of C-dog continues. So please don't worry, he'll be ok. You hear that Chaunce? You're gonna be okay!
*All of my pix of Chauncey jumping need to be rotated. I will get to that soon. It is something to behold.