I found Blazer on March 26, 2008, coming home from visiting my mum. I spotted a puppy running across a yard, heading for the road. The driver on front of me didn’t even swerve, but hit the poor pooch and sent him sprawling. I immediately stopped my car, scooped up the dog, and took him home with me.
I didn’t normally go home that way, but it was a little after 5 PM and my usual route would have meant a left turn onto a busy road, so I took a longer way that allowed me to turn right, instead. Spur of the moment decision, but I do believe God looks out for all of His creatures.
Our vet took a look at the newest addition and said he had a “sprained ankle and a black eye” but no microchip. The Squire and I printed this picture and put a flier in every mailbox along the road where I found the dog. In spite of the Squire’s “Only One Dog at a Time” dance, he suggested naming the puppy Blazer, and I knew the dog had his Forever Home.
But for a biggish dog (he weighs 75 pounds), twelve years is pretty close to Forever. Blazer is getting very old, and is having a lot of physical problems. For one thing, he has become a Genuine Old Fart. Oh, lawsy! Can that boy ever perfume a room. He has a voracious appetite, but you can see his backbone and his pelvic bones, which by itself is a serious concern.
He is losing control of his back legs, and slips on the kitchen floor far too often to make us happy. Last night we could hear him whimpering and moaning on the stairs. When I dashed into the hallway to see what was wrong, he was halfway up the steps, hanging on to one step, literally with his toenails, and unable to move his back legs. Just as I reached down to help him, he lost his grip and tumbled down the stairs. We blocked the steps with a chair, although I wonder if he’ll try to climb them again, even without it. After breakfast, he went out for his morning constitutional, and I could see him stop after every ten or fifteen steps to rest for a moment, before plodding back toward the house. When I opened the door to let him back in, he was standing too close and I accidentally hit him with the storm door, sending him sprawling.
He is taking two kinds of pain meds, but it’s obvious from the way he walks that he is still uncomfortable. At what point do you decide enough is enough? How do you measure the quality of life for a creature that cannot speak, but who looks to you with such trust and faith? We need to have a long, serious talk with the vet. Soon.
thisendoftheswamp 
I am sorry to hear of Blazer’s condition as he ages. I suppose the accident he had when you found him could have left him with lasting damage as he ages. “a serious talk with the vet soon” – aww this is the saddest part as I know the feeling, which is why I stick to inanimate furballs that live forever but gets raggedy from too many hugs and loss of cottony filling. You are a kind soul to bring Blazer home and gave him his forever home since 2008. I hope Blazer recovers and lives out the rest of his woofie life. Blessings.
Thanks for the kind words. Every time I think we need to talk to the vet, he rebounds, but at his age, it’s a given. We’ll keep on loving him as long as we have him.
Bless you all❤🤗❤🤗