My first thought was of Ottoman-shaped Dog. Once upon a time, his tail looked as though it were balding, too. It was shortly after that, that he was diagnosed with cancer.
Lots of reasons for hair loss, though. Mustn't panic. Still, I was relieved when the vet had an opening to see Tiny Dog today.
The long and the short of it is, her thyroid is low. We just add another pill to her routine. Morning and evening, now, three different half-pills. Plus a special vitamin. Easy peasy.
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It may be hard to understand why I am so very fond of Tiny Dog. She is endearing, yes, and adorably feisty and small. There is more to it than that, though, because she can also be needy, shrill, and difficult on occasion. Why, then, is she so important?
Because: life is hard. Gone are the days when I could easily tend to the Offsprings' needs -- or anyone else's -- with simple things. I can no longer protect the people I care for the most from all of the slings and arrows of everyday life (though I support them as best I can as they move along their individual paths). I am aware of their trials and tribulations, and yet I cannot take their pains away. It breaks my heart. I do the best I can for them, still.
Wth the small dogs, I can bring them a kind of happiness that eludes human beings: a good meal, a walk outside to sniff the neighborhood plants, and a seat on the couch together, and they are delighted. Tiny Dog especially enjoys curling up inside my shirt when the house is cold -- and I let her, because it comforts both of us. In that minuscule contact, we are, momentarily, both content. And that is all I can ask for.
Bless you, Tiny Dog.
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