You guys are about to find me in the Mighty Dog aisle with Joyce.
Simon's become very, very picky about his food-- and there seems to be no rhyme or reason. I thought it was the antibiotics, but that's not it. Beef and oats appears to be tolerable. Most of the time. Not always.
This morning, I was losing my temper and my patience, late for work, Simon AND Birdie not eating. Adam offered to try to feed him again later in the morning thinking maybe the time change had him off. I got a phone call on the way to work; still zero interest in the beef and quinoa...but a helluva appetite for cold pizza.
My dog is turning into a frat boy.
Whatever makes him happy. He had a rough evening yesterday. I laid with him on his dog bed for a while and held his paw. He didn't even flinch. He has such arthritis that he's always wary of anyone touching his paws. But last night he just looked at my hand and laid back down.
This is getting really hard.
"In these bodies, we will live; in these bodies we will die.
Where you invest your love, you invest your life." --Marcus Mumford