A Little MS with a Little MSW

I’ve posted about my beloved miniature poodle, Biscuit, before. He is 13.5 years old and going senile, bless his heart.

A bad bout of pancreatitis landed him in the hospital a few months ago. I thought we were going to lose him. It took a while for him to bounce back, but, boy, has he done so with a vengeance! He bounced so far back that he is now exhibiting habits from his childhood!

Despite a healthy case of arthritis in his hips, he is jumping up on bar-height stools and tables. Arthritis, be damned, I guess? Getting down is a different story, but he sure is flexing his geriatric independent muscle all the way up to the tabletop.

Also, he recently recollected a favorite puppyhood pastime of unraveling the toilet paper from the bathroom all the way out to the middle of the living room floor. This one drives my husband nuts, but I actually find it amusing. This happened to be one of his least destructive shenanigans as a pup. (Please God don’t let him start destroying shoes or the furniture, again).

The most disruptive symptom of his dementia so far has been his nighttime barking. He barks and barks and barks and barks and barks and barks and barks and barks and barks and well, you get the picture. We have to get out of bed and remain in his presence for him to settle down and go back to sleep.

Our vet prescribed CBD oil for him today. Fingers crossed it helps calm him. He is an anxious dog by nature, so I am skeptical of its efficacy, but hopeful for some longer periods of rest in the nights to come.

It is bittersweet watching him relive his childhood in these small ways. The cognitive decline that brings the incessant barking also brings a reminder of the dog he was, is, and will always be, in that place in my heart made just for him.

His presence shaped me.

And if it is my presence he needs right now, even at 3am, my weary bones will nestle beside him and give thanks for the mutual comfort our closeness brings.