Koi ignoring his "pilow"
We thought we broke
Koi this weekend at the cabin.
He sauntered down the
ramp a little after 8 AM on Saturday morning and followed a safe distance
behind David’s weed-eating sweep. His single, sharp bark drew my attention from
stacking rocks to our driveway entrance.
“I’m taking Koi for a
walk!” I called to David before following our dog down the steep incline
towards the dry creek bed. In previous years, this section of road washed out
with every thunderstorm that traversed the hill country. Sometime over the last
few years, the county built up the entire section of road, possibly enough to
prevent water from damaging the area in the future. Still, it’s a precarious
walk for my recovering knee. For Pom-monster Koi’s little feet, it’s a
challenge he tackles slowly now that he’s over twelve-years-old.
This time, he walked
and sniffed, and sniffed and walked down the slope with ease while I clumped
along behind, careful to keep my weight even on each leg. At one point, he
wanted to leave the road to investigate, but a high berm prevented him from
crossing over. He yapped at me to help him up and over.
“No. We’re staying on
the road,” I instructed, and then suggested we return to the cabin.
Koi refused to follow
me when I pivoted to go back. We stood in stalemate for a few seconds, and then
I relented.
Our walk continued
for a few hundred feet more before I suggested, “Cabin? Water?”
The offer of water
stopped his forward push. It took us about ten minutes to reach the cabin door.
Both of us lapped cold water before heading back outside. To prevent Koi from
accidentally laying in prickly pear, David pulled out the mat all of our dogs
use at the cabin. Koi ignored it, though, and stretched out on the rock
hardened ground to watch me work.
When we broke work to
eat lunch, he drank a ton of water and nibbled at his bits. He trailed behind
us as David tried out our new saw on some cedar. He vanished when I feebly
attempted to organize our junk pile. David found him on the porch out of the
midday sun, and he resisted the suggestion to go inside on his own.
About 4:30, we headed
in to wash up for dinner with Koi leading the way. He signaled that he wanted
help onto the lower bunkbed. David lifted him onto its foot. His eyes closed
immediately as he sighed.
Koi didn’t move when
pork chops sizzled. He didn’t come to the table to beg for food. While we took
a sink bath, he remained silent and still. He ignored our offer for his evening
chicken.
By our bedtime, his
deep and motionless sleep made David nudge him awake to see if he wanted to go
potty. He closed his eyes again. One of us checked him periodically all night
as he slept the sleep of the dead. Sometime during the night, David moved into
the bed with him to keep better watch.
Then about 4:30 in
the morning, he stood up on the bed and yipped to go outside. The twelve hour
sleep restored him. He wasn’t broken after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment