Why do we do stupid things when deep down, we know better? Why? Why? Why? What stupid thing, you ask.
On Friday, the husband and I agreed to foster a golden retriever whose owner is in the hospital. We didn’t know when we agreed that he weighs 125 lbs. As in 55 pounds more than Mr. Bingley!!! As in the fattest, hairiest golden retriever that I have ever had occasion to meet! In fairness, he is also very sweet. But he has that abandoned dog thing going where he is starving for attention. And he shoves three toys in his mouth all at once. And if I try to throw a different toy to Mr. Bingley, he drops his three and grabs Bingley’s.
The photo above may look like one of Mr. Bingley sitting in the yard. In actuality, it is of Mr. Bingley, drugged out, dragging his hind quarters around the yard. About 20 minutes after Buddy arrived on Saturday, he and Mr. Bingley got in a little skirmish. Bingley did not win. Bingley’s body has been in arthritic spasms most of the time since then. I took him to the vet last night and got him a pain shot and some Tramadol to add to the Carprofen. We think he may not like how the Tramadol makes him feel, thus his drunken weaving around the house and yard for most of the day. Even in his drugged out state, he is very careful to avoid the giant, hairy monster.
So anyhow, I don’t know what we are going to do. I don’t want to send Buddy to yet another place. But I also can’t have Mr. Bingley in a deep depression. I keep trying to think of the positives: Buddy does his business outside, he doesn’t destroy the house. He doesn’t jump or bite. He’s super sweet and friendly.
Then there is the other side: Buddy refuses to go into the crate we got. Buddy is super fat and has no idea how big he is. Buddy has no respect for Mr. Bingley’s position in the house. Mr. Bingley is so sad.
I’ll keep you posted on how things are going. I hope everyone has a great week!