Yesterday at about 2:00 I realized I hadn’t left the house in days. “I’ll wait until he falls asleep and then I’ll go for a walk down to the Bay,” I thought.
At 4:00 I decided not to wait any longer for him to fall asleep, headed for the front door, and he fell down as I turned the knob. I went back to pick him up, to steady him, for the fourth time that day.
At 5:00 I asked him if he wanted to join me in a walk. He didn’t respond directly, but went to his water bowl and fell down again. I helped him drink, then led him to one of his beds and laid him out.
At 5:05 he struggled to get up, flailing. I picked him up. He walked to the back door, went outside, fell down on the lawn.
At 5:15 I asked him again about a walk. He walked back outside.
At 5:30 Becky got home, looked in my eyes, told me to get out of the house. This time he decided he wanted to come along. “I’ll catch up with you guys!” said Becky. I lifted him down the front steps, and he pissed on the toe of my left boot. “Ah well, no real harm done” I thought, and sprayed my toe with the hose. He walked three blocks with me, and then the downhill slope of the last leg before the park proved a little much for him. He was unable to control his speed, and I stopped him, stroked him to reassure him, then lifted him to carry him for that steep block. He laid his head familiarly on my right shoulder, and then shat on the toe of my left boot.
At 5:45 he was stumbling. I made him lie down on the lawn in the park. He went to sleep.
At 6:00 Becky joined us. He was still asleep, and I went into the taqueria near the park to get us all some food. He slept through the fish tacos, but when we waved the carne asada burrito in front of his nose he woke, got up, ate a few bites with gusto. We headed back home and he almost trotted behind us, intent on the rest of that burrito. I carried him up the steep part of the hill, and his head was strained toward Becky the whole time.
At 7:00 he went outside.
At 8:00 I helped him in, made him lie down on one of his beds.
At 9:00 I helped him up. He went outside.
At 10:00 I helped him in, put him to bed.
At 11:00 I helped him up. He went outside. I wrote a blog post on the Rancholabrean fauna of the Pinole Creek watershed.
At 11:45 I carried him in again, put him to bed, showered.
At midnight I went to bed.
At 1:30 I woke. He’d gotten up and was tottering stiffly toward the back door. He didn’t make it in time, and I got out the mop. Leaving the back door open, I forewent going back to bed and instead lay down on the couch near the door, so that he could wake me if he needed help getting back in.
At 3:30 I woke up and realized I hadn’t heard him come in, so I got up and saw him laid out on the back part of the lawn. I grabbed my bathrobe and walked out there. He was breathing — that was good — cold and unresponsive. I picked him up and he awoke. He was merely sleeping outdoors in the 34°F night, and I put him on a dog bed next to the couch, turned the heater on, and went back to sleep next to him.
At 6:00 Becky got up and I crawled into bed for an hour and a half.
At 7:30 I got up, picked him up off the floor where he’d been since sometime after Becky went to work around 7:00, and made some coffee. “I’ll go running when he goes to sleep,” I told myself. “That’ll help me wake up.”
At 8:00 I had another cup of coffee. And another at 8:45. And at 9:30.
At 10:30 he was asleep, and I dressed in running clothes and went out, ran a measly haven’t-exercised-nor-really-slept-in-days 2.5K, and walked back home. He was awake and miraculously upright. I showered. “I’ll go run my errand when he goes back to sleep,” I told myself.
At 2:00 I got tired of waiting, carried him in and put to bed, on his comfy bed in our bedroom. He was resentful. He was asleep in two minutes. I left for the hardware and office supplies store. On the way back I stopped at the produce stand. He was still asleep when I got home.
At 3:30 he woke up, went out onto the lawn.
I have lost track now. What time is it?
Posted by: Chris Clarke
Categories:
Zeke
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