21 May 2008

He is our own ghost, but he is not so much like Casper.

Timmy is still here. His lows are lower and his highs are pretty uneventful. But I have this idea that he doesn't quite yet want to go. I listen at night for the fast little clack clack clack of his too long toenails pacing around on the floor. We keep all the lights on all night like we are having a fun and super party so he can see as he makes his circuits around the house. Sometimes I wash the floor at 2am if he couldn't wait for me to get him out. Then I never know if he's going to sleep or frantically make his circuits again. Too frantic and I tranquilize him when it seems neccessary.

I take him out to the yard and sit with him in the night. You have to watch him so he doesn't get stuck and start to freak out. I sit on our porch steps at 3am and see cats, or shady guys up at the payphone at the corner store. I don't think he can really see hardly anything at all. Sometimes one of the other dogs will walk up to him and he looks like he's seeing a ghost. They don't seem to know what to do with him anymore and pretty much treat him like the ghost, as if he wasn't there.

A walk up to the corner isn't so fun anymore, it takes about 10 minutes to go past 3 houses. The list of things he can't do keeps growing, but then later on he seems content to just lay there at my feet. This kind of Timmy means I stay up a lot of the night. During the day it's like I'm the ghost now with the fuzzy memory and slow moving. Except I'm allowed to drive a car.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Sweet, old, dear, confused Timmy. Cyber hugs.