The Bud-man is home from his cardiac exam today and the news is as good as it could be. Put simply, he’s an old dog with an old heart (I know the feeling) but there are none of the signs that mean his heart murmur is, at the moment, problematic. Down the road, I expect, we will be looking at some medications and perhaps a changed diet, but which of us, human or dog, does not have that future awaiting?

He was hilarious last night and this morning when he could not have food or water. I fed him extra times yesterday prior to the 9pm deadline, but that meant nothing to him when it was time to retire around 11. After getting ready to hit the sack, I realized he wasn’t following me around as is his wont. I found him in the kitchen standing stiffly in front of where his food and water bowl usually appear and staring hard at the emptiness (stiff body, point like an arrow is one of his two major signals of what he expects; the other is going bat-shit crazy and dashing back and forth in all directions). Finally, he came into the BR where I was reading and crawled into his bed.

This morning, he was even more befuddle-ated when, after being put out to relieve himself, he came back to find…nothing. This time he did the body-point thing in the hallway, aiming at the kitchen in general as if to say “hey, stupid, there is stuff you should be doing here.” He held that position (or leapt back into it whenever I reappeared) while I showered, made the bed and dressed.

But now he’s back, been fed and re-fed. As I think I noted before, the vet wants him somewhat bigger and I already raised him one pound over the last week and will continue for another pound or two; for a dog of this size, that’s a pretty hefty upgrade. He’s happier but still disgruntled. I suspect he’ll be firing off some pee-mail when we do our walk in the morning asking one of his pals to contact the CCLU (Canine Civil Liberties Union) about the way he was criminally abused when food, the one thing he treasures most, was removed from his life for 16-plus hours.

The eye he’s giving me now suggests I may be part of the inevitable law suit. He loves me, but damned if he’ll forgive me. Reminds my of Italian momma, toughest lady I ever knew.

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