My buddy

So grandma and grandpa have a dog, Winston. He's always been an old dog (or, let me be more politically correct, a "senior") but he was over this weekend and, I gotta tell you, he's old.

I learned quickly that Winston is different from other dogs I meet. He's never been energetic, or, spunky- wagging his tail is pretty much the extend of his excitedness.

We started to call him Eeyore (from Winnie the Pooh) because they had a lot in common, such as:
- energy levels (always hovered in the "low" zone)
- coordination (sometimes he'd walk into walls)
- alertness (this one kinda speaks for itself)
One thing they didn't have in common- Winston's tail never fell off.

HOWEVER, Winston is very sensitive when it comes to his tail. Like, if grandma were to accidentally step on it, he'd give her a little "nip" to let her know he's there. So, maybe he and Eeyore do have another thing in common! Hmmm...

As with most things, time ages them (except me of course, I will remain a puppy foreverz!) and Winston has gone from his youthful Eeyore enthusiasm to trying to pour molasses on a cold day. He doesn't budge.

Winston was over this weekend and I greeted him as I usually do with some sniffs (to make sure its him) and a potty break in the backyard. But, after he peed, my buddy tried to turn around, and he fell. He couldn't right himself. I walked over to him and gave a little nudge with my nose- he got back up, went inside and spent the rest of the day on his pillow. Sleeping.

I felt like Fran's mother on The Nanny, when Winston came in the house. Who, when Fran walks into the kitchen, after being away for sometime she yells, "WHATS WRONG WITH YOU? THEY DON'T FEED YOU IN (insert a random city)? You're all skin and bones- here have a sandwich and tell ma' all about it!"

Mom says I'm not an old Jewish lady, and Winston doesn't eat sandwiches...but I beg to differ. I just want my buddy back.