Zeke: Fallin’ Forward.

dog-noise-close-up

Zeke, in his Countdown, stumbles forward.

We pinch the drip tube on the meds. He’s woozy coming down, he grasps for his footing.

The morning 5-milers, have been cut to half-milers, or less, this routine interrupted indefinitely.

A rash here, a rash there, in the most personal of his private parts, all swollen and inflamed from being scratched raw. (Is there no mercy?)

His left eye, now red and goopy, fails him badly in snatching nuts tossed from a few feet. His depth perception askew, his jaws pathetically snap at air.  He can’t see them.

He limps, his back foot drags a broken toe, an affliction caught chasing a friend he could not catch. His muscles atrophied, his bones snap like twigs. (This is painful to watch.)

The assurances that this, this, is a normal pattern of recovery, are landing with disbelief.  The wheels on this Red Hungarian Bus, are coming off.

He lies on the floor near the air conditioning vent, panting, trying to exhale the contamination.

“How are you Bud?”

He looks up, sees the biscuit in my hand, but doesn’t get up.  He wags his tail, in rhythm to the words: life is good, life is good.

“I’m OK Dad, this will be OK.”


Inspired by:

The poignancy of a dog’s death is that it’s different only in degree, not in kind, from a human’s. Afterward, there’s that same resonant pause in which you watch and in which you observe how curious it is how the world rushes on. You come home and expect to see the beloved. You wonder where the years went. In the end, our dogs’ greatest gift to us is the saddest: they sprint ahead, pointing the way to our common fate.

~ Richard Gilbert, Why I Hate My Dog


Notes: Photo – Christine Navarre (black lab nose) via  Nini Poppins. Related Posts: Zeke

55 thoughts on “Zeke: Fallin’ Forward.”

  1. Each and every moment with them is precious but even more so the ones we spend by their side in their [and our] time of trouble. Sending a big kiss to that gorgeous nose accompanied by healing thoughts.

  2. Oh David. Agony. I love that: “In the end, our dogs’ greatest gift to us is the saddest: they sprint ahead, pointing the way to our common fate.” So true. So damnably true. My heart is aching for you.

  3. Oh so sad, I’m sorry David. Are they saying he will recover? I sure hope so. I have been having problems with Bella too, but not nearly as bad as what poor Zeke is going through. You mentioned a rash. Bella has had so many problems with her skin, redness and rash in so many places and they haven’t been able to find out what is wrong. She takes a medication to help with the itching and every now and then they put her on antibiotics, but this has been going on for a very long time. She was starting to lose her hair at one point and they just put her back on antibiotics. They don’t even know why it’s happening. I feed her a special limited ingredient food and I don’t let her outside unless she’s on a leash because I don’t know if she might be allergic to something outside. Her life has changed so much and I feel so sorry for Bella too. I’ll be thinking of Zeke and your family…I know how horrible this must be for all of you.

  4. Hi Carol. Our vet is hopeful but the outcome is uncertain. We are hopeful too. So sorry to hear about Bella’s rashes. Its horrible that our dogs have to deal with it. Thanks for your warm wishes.

  5. I’m hoping your dear friend will pull thru this, pets are just as much friends and family…. as the rest imo. I’m very sorry about this David.

  6. They have so much heart. They love us. Do their best. Do whatever it takes to please. Carry on regardless of impediments.
    They never give up in what the moment brings …. And neither should we. We too must sprint ahead with a wagging tail! And trust. And love. And know that one day its over.
    That’s the way life is.
    And ain’t it grand 💛

  7. I’ve said a few prayers today for Zeke and your family…when a love hurts we wish we could take away the pain…Zeke is well loved…I know you are a constant source of comfort to him, your faithful buddy..I am sorry his struggle is so painful…I hope that the morning light brings relief to Zeke and hope to you and your family…Kindly, Christie

  8. So sorry Dave..wow I remember the first day you got Zeke and the stories about everyone out ruling you.. I know he is your buddy. Hard to read..

  9. I know this is hard. I know the hair-ripping frustration of not being able to make it better. Keep your hands on him. That will help you both.

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