Today is a my catch-up after spending a three-day weekend at the dog show. Sorting through and putting away everything that was so carefully packed up on Thursday … finishing up on laundry … returning email/phone calls … moving the week’s schedule around to accommodate my father’s doctor’s appointment … performing a final check on my taxes so I can get them filed … setting up a CERF eye exam for Dante. So much for a “day off.”
We had some very stiff competition this weekend, including the #1 Apso in the country and Dante’s littermate, Fernando. Needless to say, Dante came home with nothing to show for his weekend except a bath and a good grooming. So goes the dog show. Can’t really complain, though. Dante did everything I asked of him and more … like not throwing some heretofore unknown behavior into the mix. At one point, the line-up was squeezed together with little room between the dogs. Dante, much to his credit, was solid and didn’t react. And I agree with the old saying about dog shows … “Win or lose, I always bring the best dog home … my dog!”
To put it all in perspective … I was already a “winner” before leaving the house on Friday. My 8-year old male, Frankers, is back … back to my quirky little guy. He’s been running up/down the basement stairs (two weeks ago I was carrying him up because he couldn’t make it). While fixing food bowls, I turned around and he was sitting up, waving his front paws at me. He’s enthusiastic about eating. He’s been tossing his toys around and engaging Ali to play with him. Just last night, he was jumping up on the couch again. He bounces in and out of the house, taking the steps with a spring. The lymph node is down and shows no signs of infection.
His eyes are bright; his tail up and wagging … no ribbon can take the place of that.