The good news is I'm still trying to kick, the bad news is I'm still moving slowly. I'm making slow and steady progress. Dr. Clare, the critical care physician said, "I wrote the book on this one!" whatever that's suppose to mean. It seems I gave her quite the challenge, but isn't that why my humans pay her the big bucks? It's her job to figure out what's wrong with me and fix it.
Like my human mom, I never do anything the easy way. Life would be dull if we took the easy route and went with the text book diagnosis. No text book diagnosis for me. Nope, not me!
I have my own pharmacy on the kitchen counter. Dad refuses to administer my medicine. He's afraid he'll get it messed up. I don't blame him, but mom does seem to have it organized quite well. Mom knows he could do it, but she is not pushing him. She is spoiling both of us, but don't tell her I said so. Dad and I plan on taking full advantage of all this spoiling. Wonder how long we can make it last?
Thanks for putting your paws and hands together in prayer. I'm sure thankful to have such a wonderful world of friends praying for me.
Woofs and Wags,