Thirteen winters ago there was an awful March blizzard, during which a sad three-month-old black lab puppy materialized tied to our porch. Of the house that has since been foreclosed on, four blocks from my mom's current house. We had never had a dog before, but we kept her. I'm having trouble with the idea that it's been thirteen years.
Last night, around two AM, she had a bad fall, hurt her leg, and is now limping around and unable to deal with stairs. Having some trouble standing up, too. When she sits down to think about it, you can feel her trembling, because she's scared and doesn't know how to deal with this. We've been alternating sitting with her so she doesn't have time to be lonely and think about it, but that's not a long-term solution after we kids leave. We've been doing a certain amount of freaking out about it when we sit down to think about it, too.
We visited my dad tonight and it was pretty good. He was showing us around the new house. They've got a downstairs bathroom with a washer and dryer in it, because a previous owner got elderly and had some mobility issues, so she wanted to just have everything downstairs. Converted from what used to be a bedroom. It's huge and very pretty.
Doesn't seem like a bad idea. There are steps to get off our porch, a step to get out our back door. Steps are hard, right now. Getting outdoors is important. The dog really needs something like this.
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