lizblackdog (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lizblackdog) wrote2012-01-10 02:15 pm
lizblackdog) wrote2012-01-10 02:15 pm
Entry tags:
Love you with all the madness in my soul
when I fell in love with Spike, I didn't onlyfall in love with him as an individual. I fell in love with he entire breed. I didn't, and still really don't, ever want to have a dog that isn't a border collie again.
Except. It's not just the creeping deathfatigue, or perhaps it's a side effect of it, I don't know. Every time I use a muscle for more than a minute or so it behaves like I worked it into the ground for days at a stretch. I played tug with Spike yesterday and today my wrist and forearm are painful enough that I can only hold leashes lefthanded. Same thing with hip joints and lower back every time I walk anywhere or stay upright more than ten minutes.
fortunately Spike is nine now, and while he doesn't LIKE it, he's at least capable of living with reduced amounts of play and exrcise without going completely hosebeast, more or less. But I'm forced to accept that there's no way I could be fair to a younger BC, not now, not any more. My next dog's going to have to be my old lady dog; a papillon or the nearest equivalent the shelter can find me.
I'm so lucky to have Spike. I'm still heartbroken that he's going to be the only one, not the first of many like I planned. (Unless I look for geriatric border collies. Which I very well might. But that's its own kind of guaranteed heartbreak and really hard to handle without a younger dog around as a counterpoint.)
Except. It's not just the creeping deathfatigue, or perhaps it's a side effect of it, I don't know. Every time I use a muscle for more than a minute or so it behaves like I worked it into the ground for days at a stretch. I played tug with Spike yesterday and today my wrist and forearm are painful enough that I can only hold leashes lefthanded. Same thing with hip joints and lower back every time I walk anywhere or stay upright more than ten minutes.
fortunately Spike is nine now, and while he doesn't LIKE it, he's at least capable of living with reduced amounts of play and exrcise without going completely hosebeast, more or less. But I'm forced to accept that there's no way I could be fair to a younger BC, not now, not any more. My next dog's going to have to be my old lady dog; a papillon or the nearest equivalent the shelter can find me.
I'm so lucky to have Spike. I'm still heartbroken that he's going to be the only one, not the first of many like I planned. (Unless I look for geriatric border collies. Which I very well might. But that's its own kind of guaranteed heartbreak and really hard to handle without a younger dog around as a counterpoint.)
no subject
no subject
He saved my life. I truly wouldn't have lived to meet Spike if he hadn't kept me together. I've got a monthly donation going to the Dogs Trust old dog sanctuary house in his memory and I've always planned to do it again. Old dogs are so lovely to have around. But I don't think I have the emotional resilience any more to deal with an old, possibly infirm dog being all the dog I've got.
no subject
no subject
no subject