Saturday, August 31, 2013

Poor Frank

Todays the kinda day I feel guilty for being sick.  My poor dog Frank, as seen in my google profile, is sick of staying home.  When I was healthy, pre-cancer, we would walk daily.  I would take him to our county fairgrounds and just walk and walk, letting him sniff, mark, do his thing.  He loves it there.  Being neutropenic, its best to stay inside, besides, I don't have the energy to walk him anyways.

I love Frank bunches.  It hurts me to see him sad and mopey around the house.  He has spent the last week just laying by my feet, following me wherever I go in the house.  He knows.  He knows, but I keep telling him I am on my way to getting better.  Soon, we will be back at life, walking, taking him for car rides, back to normal,  I hope.

Frank is very picky.  He doesn't like strangers, and especially dislikes men.  He was a shelter dog, and he has the attitude of a grumpy old man.  He's very loving to people he knows, but very protective of me.  Right now, he is sitting on the bed next to my desk, looking out the window, barking at the people walking by.  He is small, but a total thug.  He acts so tough, but gets away with it, because of his big, pug-like eyes.  I can't say no when he is staring me down.  Oh, poor boy, I promise to get better as soon as possible so we can go walking and visiting mom and dad again!

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