Another not so happy week at Casa Bob y Carlos …
Yesterday we let
Ozzo out for his business. About twenty minutes later our vet’s office called
to say that one of our neighbors found Ozzo in their yard; they put us in
contact with the neighbor and Ozzo was brought back home, but it started that
conversation again. You see, Ozzo is also about 18 to 20 years old, and he
doesn’t see well, he doesn’t hear well, and he doesn’t move well—though he moved
well enough to work his way through the fence and go for a Blind Man Stroll.
I suggested we make an appointment with the vet to make sure
he’s okay, other than his eyes and ears and back legs, and Carlos couldn’t
handle it. As pets do when they come into your home, they bond with one of you;
Ozzo bonded to Carlos, Tuxedo bonded with me, MaxGoldberg actually bonded with
us both, though he was slightly more partial to me, and Consuelo bonded with
her food dish. So. We’re taking Ozzo to the vet next week, for a checkup
only, and to see how his health is because I don’t want him hurt or in
pain, like Max. I’d like the old man to
go in his sleep, peaceful and calm, and if he’s okay, other than the aging, then he will live out his days in peace and comfort.
It’s hard; there’s what’s best for the pet and what you want,
and really what you want shouldn’t matter. |