Tio

New Mild-mannered Dog was ailing this week.  He stayed in his bed, barely opening his eyes or focusing them on anyone or anything for long, for a couple of days.  It was Very Sad Indeed.  With some ministrations from the vet, though, he has now perked up. We are grateful.

Herself had originally planned that she would treat this dog a bit more at arm's-length.  She did not want to let a new canine too far into her heart; the grief of the loss of three elderly pets within the past year still pops to her surface on occasion, and it surprises her. Caution was warranted, clearly.

But then New Dog fell ill, and his illness brought Herself flashbacks of all the difficult moments with Ancient Decrepit Dog and Ottoman-shaped Dog -- the wrenching sensation of knowing that she did not know what was wrong, but that it was probably Not Good.  Her heart cracked. New Dog had put his faith in her, even though she was a new and unfamiliar human, and looked to her for help.  She rose to his call, and took care of him as best she could.

She was rewarded this afternoon with his small form peeking out the front door, wagging his tail, when she returned from work.  He stamped his little feet, too, and it was reminiscent of how Ancient Venerable Cavy would stamp his feet with delight at vegetable time.  Herself was tremendously glad.  His is a small and humble life, and it is a pleasure to know that he is happy.

This evening she made him a bit of plain chicken with a little macaroni, at the vet's suggestion. Hopefully he will enjoy that, too.

Be well, Mild-mannered Dog.  You are safe here.

Verily I say to you, inasmuch as ye have done it to one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it to me.