To those who celebrate Thanksgiving, here’s wishing you a special day full of Scottietude and Happiness. To those who don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, here’s wishing you a special day full of Scottitude and Happiness.
There. From my house to your house, may every day be Thanksgiving.
By the way, I won’t be having any turkey or mashed potatoes. But, pumpkin will be part of every meal. It always is.
I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking a cuppa and a croissant sounds good right about now.
Winston didn’t have a name in this picture. Well, he did, but it wasn’t Winston. It was something unsuited to his handsome Scottish heritage.
He was such a loner the day we met him. And he still is. Did he want to meet us? Was he interested in what was going on? Not really. It was almost as if he were already an old soul. Just hanging around close enough to us to get a whiff. But not much else.
But he got in the car with us. And here we are. Years later, he’s still a loner. Eight years to be exact.
What makes him a loner I wonder?
Today, for example, he’s been outside on the patio all day. Hasn’t come in for his “bone” – a daily ritual where we fill the grooves in a big ‘ole rubber “bone” with treats and he figures out how to get them out of the holes. He doesn’t gnaw on the bone, mind you. He’s just interested in the treats inside.
Absolutely no interest in coming in the house. But that’s not unusual this time of year. As the days change from the sopping wet humidity of a dreadful Virginia summer to crispy autumn leaves and light coats. In fact, at one point a few years ago we considered getting him a doghouse because he’d never come inside.
But today we’re a bit worried.
It’s the damned liver disease. Does it make him lethargic? Does it make him feel unwell? Does it make him eat only half of his breakfast from time to time?
We’ll know next week. When we go back to our beloved Dogtor.
Until then, we’ll continue to be amazed at how time flies. When overnight your puppy goes from a baby to an adult taking arthritis supplements and living with liver disease.
ArrooOOOOs to you and yours. Make every day special.
Let’s throwback to April. 2025. Just a few months ago. (This photo is from this weekend, so it’s current. Not a throwback.)
I’ve been thinking a lot about April. Since Monday actually. When I had a dogtor visit. I love my dogtor. It was time for my word-salad shot. I think it was DHLLP or something like that. The technician had the shot all ready.
Well, the dogtor came in and she and the peeps just yukked it up, chatted, laughed, and talked about me. And then she said, “I’m not not going to give Winston this shot right now. He is a cancer survivor and I don’t want to stress his liver. We’ll wait until November and he’ll get a lepto booster.”
Cancer survivor. Up until Monday I hadn’t really given my health any thought. I feel fine. I always have. Just feed me and give me my treats. Take me for a stroll and brush my hair and clean my beard. I’m fine.
But I’m not fine. I guess. That mass in my liver was cancer. But the mass is gone. Yeah, I have liver disease. But I’m fine. Really I am. No copper storage disease. No gall bladder, but that’s OK. No Cushing’s disease.
Ever since Monday, I’ve been thinking about that. And about the people who helped my peeps when all this stuff started last year. The folks at The Scottish Terrier Club of Greater New York, my dogtor Lori Elliott, and Scottie friends on social media, and some neighbor friends who have been through the same kinds of things.
Without them, I’d be lost. Or worse. (Don’t want to think about that.) And, of course, my surgeon, Anna Aman. And my ultrasound hero, Dr. Harpold. And our long-time wu wu friend and guide.
I haven’t spoken much about this or about the folks who walked down this path with my peeps. From the instant messages and phone calls, to the guidance and crossed paws. They were there for us. And still are.
We thank you. I thank you. The peeps thank you. I thank you. (Did I say “thank you” yet?)
It really does take a village doesn’t it? I’m glad you’re part of my village.
How do I look? I went to the beauty parlor yesterday.
After my surgery in April, I didn’t get groomed. But The Peepstress did brush me and give me a few baths. BHH*, she’s no groomer, but don’t tell her I said that.
I have to give a shout out to A Dog’s and Cat’s World groomers. Especially Rebecca, who suggested we get rid of my furnishings before my liver operation. Yep. Cut it all off. I can’t lie. It was painful. Just awful actually. I looked like a freakish canine of unknown origins.
After all was said and done, it really was the best thing to do. I’m still looking funny but my pantaloons will soon be a thing of the past. Otherwise known as my chicken drumsticks legs. If you’re an Instagram follower, there’s a photo or maybe two. If you’re not, here’s where to find me:
Thank you for caring about my surgical journey. All is well. Let’s hope the big C doesn’t come back.
And that’s my Thankful Thursday.
*(Bless Her Heart)
So, this isn’t watercolor art, but it’s art nonetheless. They’re reverse paintings on glass. In little copper frames. And we love them. The Peepstress thinks they look like me. Well, with all of the wonky hair I have going on these days, I don’t blame her.
But that’s about to change. New look coming soon! Ahhhh…..gotta love a groomer.
How I love to reminisce. Here’s a good one.
The lazy days of summer are upon us. As are memories of Stuart. Or, StuART, I should say.
Enjoy. And y’all stay cool out there.
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The Scottie Chronicles - Winston's World 