You remember Birdie, don't you, blog? That wee blind, deaf, toothless, and anorexic mutt who picked me out of a lineup last April? Some days I think she's the sweetest, most angelic, snuggliest and cutest animal in the whole entire universe. Those are the days when she gazes at me through her cataracts as if I were the greatest person in the world. Or when she snuggles up on my lap, tucks her nose in my elbow, and sighs like she's found the meaning of life. Or when her tongue gets stuck sticking out the front or side of her mouth. (So cute!) Or when she frolics like a puppy for 45 seconds - right before she remembers that she's 12 years old and really would rather snuggle up in my arms with the sun on her face.
And then there are those days when I think she's a demon from hell sent here by Mephistopheles to drive me right to the brink of insanity. Mostly those are the days when she refuses to eat, gets the pooping sickness, hogs the bed, has smelly breath, or has an allergic reaction to the world and stays up scratching all night, all of which normally culminates in an exorbitantly expensive vet bill. Grrr. I hate those days.
But lately, Birtilda's been having a lot more good days than bad. She's even started eating, and has put on enough weight that you can't see her ribs through her fur anymore. Huzzah! Not that she's all that excited about it. All in all, Birdie plays it pretty cool. As long as she's sitting on a lap, or is squished in between me and Handsome (who's started calling her Wedgina, on account of that latter predilection), she's happy.
Most of this winter has been shockingly cold for Austin, So the Bird's spent a lot of time snuggled up under blankets on her little bed by the window. On really cold days, I have to drag her around the block to get her to go on a walk.
But on a recent trip to Handsome's cabin at the lake, Birdie really let her flag fly. It was sunny and warm, and we were able to let her out and off the leash, and man did that little dog have fun. She frolicked and gamboled, cavorted and capered, bounded and bounced and played until she'd used up every little bit of energy in her soul. She investigated every nook and cranny. She didn't walk, she pranced. She didn't nibble, she ate like a horse, and when she fell asleep, she didn't just nap - she slept like the dead.
We took her with us out in the boat, and words cannot describe how fascinated and confused she was. "What is that on the other side of this wall? Is it water? Why is there so much of it? Why doesn't the ground stand still? Why is Handsome holding those sticks. Doesn't he know I want to get in his lap?"
"Ah," says Birdie. "Now this is more like it."
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