Not doing so great...

Friends, I want you to know how it's going with me.

Well I'm still going, but things aren't so great.

It takes me longer than it used to, to squeeze out those last drops of pee. And that sometimes my front leg shakes a bit with the effort of it. (I'm still taking the Previcox tablets.)

Over the past few months my hearing has deteriorated, and what once was selective deafness is now involuntary. 

Peripheral vision never really was my thing, and it certainly isn't these days.

I do believe I have a touch of arthritis in my right hip joint, but I still trot along on my walks (even quite long ones) happily, if a touch unevenly. Perhaps there's not so much bouncing as once was. And much more stopping to try to pee.

My appetite is just the same as ever, although I did have a bout of 'the runs' earlier this week.  

But I feel a little vulnerable now, and like to spend more time cuddling close to Gail.

PS from Gail: The sad truth is that after several months in which Bertie's bladder cancer symptoms first eased (after being prescribed Previcox) and then stabilised, there's been a marked deterioration very recently. He's stopping ever more frequently on walks, seemingly to try to force out more pee and looking distinctly uncomfortable, and a noticeable amount of  blood has been appearing in his urine from time to time in the last week or so. I am taking Bertie to the vet later today.  I fear it might soon be time for a difficult decision.  

More fun on Morven?

Fellow pups, have you ever been out for a walk and spotted a group who look like they might be more fun that your own human(s)?

It happened to me on Monday.

Making the most of the uncommonly fine winter weather, Gail took me for a hike up Morven, which as you know is our favourite Aberdeenshire hill.

We thought we had the place to ourselves, but as we were approaching the summit plateau, a bunch of young hill runners, accompanied by a sprightly Labrador, sped past, and I decided to join them.

Now Gail claims to be tolerably fit for her age, so I presumed she'd be able to keep up with my youthful new friends. OK, so yes I did hear her frantically calling "wait Bertie, WAIT!" but, well, I guess I'm not the first middle aged male to forget himself in the excitement of chasing after younger companionship...

Did I mention that a gale force westerly was blowing in our faces? ('Fine weather' is always a relative term in Scotland.) So anyway I pretended not to hear Gail and continued up the hill with my new pals.

I could of course have kept up with the runners all the way, but in the end I took pity on poor old Gail, puffing and panting with exertion as the gap between us widened, and I waited for her to catch up.

By the time we reached the summit, my new friends were disappearing over the far side of the hill while I, as usual, obliged with my best windswept poses. (You'll notice that for some reason my walking string is attached at this point...)