Friday, March 2, 2012
The most wonderful of days . A long stroll along the Old Roman road with Wilf. The afternoon sunshine beaming down from a near cloudless sky. We comment on how the old fellow walks on ahead of us with his head held high. You'd never know he's sick and tired and blind. When he's finally had enough he finds a spot in the shade, stops, turns on his side , and falls happily asleep. ' The font ' sits with him while I get the car .
All well until it's time for dog and owners to turn in for the night . Wilf starts walking round and round in circles. Unable to settle. Unable to sleep . Bumping into furniture. Scratching at the door to be let out , then immediately wanting to be let back in . Finally falls asleep at three. When he wakes at six the whole process repeating itself. Not the way we'd hoped it would be . The confusion heartbreaking to watch .
Over breakfast we have ' that ' conversation . ' The font ' makes an appointment at the vets . On our way home we'll stop at the cafe under the arcades for a half croissant . Today he might get a full one . And a sausage . And ice cream. If the diagnosis is bad we'll ask the senior vet to stop by this afternoon . There again Wilf has never been in a hurry to go anywhere he doesn't want to. Wilf by name, Wilful by nature.