My next door neighbor, Kirby, is a sweet man. I have no idea what his age is, or what his real name is. He is just Kirby. He and his wife have had their share of health problems and aging issues in the past few years. Martha, his wife, is housebound and on oxygen. Recently she fell and broke her hip. Kirby suffers from macular degeneration and can barely see. Now his hearing is failing and recently he had a bout with bladder cancer. He is a wizened little thing, a chain smoker who likes to sit and listen to talk news on the radio and sporting events. He is a gentle, kind man. The neighbors love he and Martha and look out for them.
Kirby and Martha have a Jack Russell terrier named Zippo. At one point Zippo weighed in at 27#. If you know the breed, this is about 10-15 pounds more than he should have been. He waddled around like a Thanksgiving dressed turkey on bandy legs. Last summer, when Matt was visiting and cleaning fish at the dock, he threw a huge smelly piece of skin and fish flesh to a staring egret sitting on Kirby's dock next to ours. Before the bird could get to it, Zippo hobbled over and grabbed it and ran on his little short legs up the stairs into Kirby's house. At the time, Matt was mortified and wasn't sure what to do and forgot to tell me about it until some time later. Months later I confessed to Kirby what had happened and he said, "Oh, I remember that. I said, Martha, what has the dog dragged in." I cannot imagine what I would have thought if Guinness, my dog dragged something like that in. I might have fainted. Gross!
But years of being indulged by his owners, and fed treats like strawberry shortcake and whipped cream for breakfast, have caught up to Zippo. Diagnosed with diabetes, the past couple months have been hell for Kirby. With his wife needing at home therapy for her healing hip, the care of the dog has fallen to him. Since he cannot see, he cannot do the regular multiple blood tests daily to check insulin. Giving shots has been hit or miss with Zippo going from unreadable high levels to such lows that he has convulsed. I have been helping to test Zippo, but one morning last week, when I went over for my daily blood letting dog torture, I found Kirby in his robe with a miserable cold and just overwhelmed. The dog had peed, pooped and vomited everywhere. We got the mess cleaned up and then had the "talk" about what to do.
Tonight Kirby called to say he had made his decision. Zippo will be put to sleep in the next day or so. I am going to miss that goofy little dog. And, he is a reminder to me that life winds down. Kirby cannot manage his beloved pet's health anymore. He has had to give up his gardening and his beautiful orchid collection. His raised pineapple bed is full of weeds. No more fishing and the boat has been sold. He cannot drive. Life is narrower and narrower. I am not just sad that Kirby is losing his constant companion, I am sad that Kirby has already lost so much.
Kirby and Martha have a Jack Russell terrier named Zippo. At one point Zippo weighed in at 27#. If you know the breed, this is about 10-15 pounds more than he should have been. He waddled around like a Thanksgiving dressed turkey on bandy legs. Last summer, when Matt was visiting and cleaning fish at the dock, he threw a huge smelly piece of skin and fish flesh to a staring egret sitting on Kirby's dock next to ours. Before the bird could get to it, Zippo hobbled over and grabbed it and ran on his little short legs up the stairs into Kirby's house. At the time, Matt was mortified and wasn't sure what to do and forgot to tell me about it until some time later. Months later I confessed to Kirby what had happened and he said, "Oh, I remember that. I said, Martha, what has the dog dragged in." I cannot imagine what I would have thought if Guinness, my dog dragged something like that in. I might have fainted. Gross!
But years of being indulged by his owners, and fed treats like strawberry shortcake and whipped cream for breakfast, have caught up to Zippo. Diagnosed with diabetes, the past couple months have been hell for Kirby. With his wife needing at home therapy for her healing hip, the care of the dog has fallen to him. Since he cannot see, he cannot do the regular multiple blood tests daily to check insulin. Giving shots has been hit or miss with Zippo going from unreadable high levels to such lows that he has convulsed. I have been helping to test Zippo, but one morning last week, when I went over for my daily blood letting dog torture, I found Kirby in his robe with a miserable cold and just overwhelmed. The dog had peed, pooped and vomited everywhere. We got the mess cleaned up and then had the "talk" about what to do.
Tonight Kirby called to say he had made his decision. Zippo will be put to sleep in the next day or so. I am going to miss that goofy little dog. And, he is a reminder to me that life winds down. Kirby cannot manage his beloved pet's health anymore. He has had to give up his gardening and his beautiful orchid collection. His raised pineapple bed is full of weeds. No more fishing and the boat has been sold. He cannot drive. Life is narrower and narrower. I am not just sad that Kirby is losing his constant companion, I am sad that Kirby has already lost so much.
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