Ageing

My Dad has recently suffered an injury that has required his muscles in his left leg to need reattached to his bones (he fell out in the garden), and is therefore off work for a few weeks. Recovery time is likely 4-5 months. He’s rather up beat about it all, however due to the fact that he has to use both crutches at the moment (not allowed to bend his leg and has to take it easy) he can’t take things from one room to another i.e. cups of tea, lunch etc. I have been getting a chance to spend more quality time with him which has been great and it means I get to see my little Mo:

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He’s not aging very well the poor boy. He has bad arthritis, is going deaf (although that may just be a man thing!) and we think his sight isn’t as good as it used to be. He is spoilt rotten, and well looked after. He has all the vet treatment he has ever needed and he has recently had surgery to remove a tumour from his bum! Unfortunately, no amount of looking after can fully stave off the horror of growing old.

We stopped at my parent’s house on Saturday night (with the intention of cutting grass but it was raining) and had dinner. While I was having my cuppa, I noticed that all of a sudden Elmo was lying very still on his bed. His eyes were fully open, unblinking and then he started to convulse. It lasted for a matter of 20-30 seconds and then he got up and shook himself over before demanding to be let out. He sat out in the garden under one of the bushes for a brief period before coming back in. Elmo is notorious for his constant barking at anyone in the house. And I mean constant (he lost his voice once from barking). But the whole time we were there, silence. Not a peep out of him. He is off back to the vets at some point but I have a feeling they won’t be able to do anything about it.

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