A Melancholy Sort of Day

I took PerfectGrace to the vet today.   Nothing life-threatening, but the arthritis in her knees has become bad enough that she's having a hard time getting around.  She can't jump up onto the bed or into the car anymore; she slips on the hardwood floors and goes down.  It's very sad.  We're putting her on Rimadyl daily, plus a month's worth of weekly Adequan injections.  She is truly PerfectGrace...

And while I hate that she -- or any of the animals in my life -- are getting old 

 this post isn't really about PerfectGrace.

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It's about my Justy.

Justy's not even old, but I've decided it's his time. 

What a horrid decision...

...and it's one I didn't want to make...

...But I did.

I made that decision

and called the vet today...

 Justy is tired and he hurts.

I suspect he had an injury before he came to live with me

that affected his shoulder.  He has terrible arthritis in that leg and 

 has become so lame on that leg, that he rarely walks upright.

He recently has taken to scooting along with that knee on the ground..

I've had him on double the recommended amount of Previcox

to make him comfortable.

He's only five.

He was never very friendly -- a little timid --

but he's a good boy.

Even though he didn't ask to be mine, he is.

and he deserves a soft landing...

The Hurrieder I Go, the Behinder I Get.

I am late nearly everywhere I go.  Not hours late (usually), but often somewhat late.  My mind seems to come up with some sort of mathematical formula regarding how late I can be.  I can be three minutes late to work.  I can be an hour or two late to watch Jess ride at a horse show (shows last ALL day long for three days).   Dinner invitation, fifteen minutes; party, thirty minutes to an hour.

I'm not saying there is any justification to my tardiness, just  stating how my brain seems to work.  I think my inability to be timely stems from two things: (1) my complete lack of ability to entertain myself, so I HATE being anywhere too early and having to WAIT.  (2) My inability to accurately gauge the amount of time it takes to do things.

In order to get to work on time, I need to leave at nine-thirty-five.  Nine-thirty-three is too early; nine-thirty-eight is suddenly too close to nine-forty and that is too late.  In my mind, if I need to leave at nine-thirty-five, I start towards the car at nine-thirty-four.  It can't take more than a minute to get in the car and turn it on, can it?

So this morning at nine-thirty, I did a final check on the animals and started toward the car.   I hollered at the dogs, grabbed my purse and my keys, and went out front.