August 10, 2012

White Dog put her lips against the side of my face and whispered, "Dad sometimes has the worst timing." I ran my hand down her side and nodded in understanding. The White Dog was still on edge about Quinn's health although we all agreed he seemed to standing a bit steadier. Quinn was still a long way from normal and still had a nervousness that magnified every noise or shadow flutter.

The school was scheduled for outside review today and there was no way Steve could avoid the timing of meetings, and audits, and discussions. So instead of our usual nice laid back mornings where he was not needed at work until past noon, he had to be in at 7:30. This meant the routine was off; scary stuff to the already disconnected Quinn. Breakfast was early; meds were early; morning walks were early.We could all sense The Other White Dog's stress level rise. He paced the hallway for over an hour after Steve left before settling down to sleep again. (But he WAS walking...not gracefully or quickly...but walking).

On the bright side of the schedule change was the fact that Steve would be home at some point in the afternoon. He could not predict when but promised that "just as soon as his part was over," he would pumpkin back to us. When he walked in the door around two, the White Dog Army was overjoyed. And when he came into the office where TOWD was splayed next to me, Quinn's tail thumped in excitement. Our gentle boy even accepted Steve's invitation to go on a brief walk in the front (Steve carried him down the steps).

At the vet's office, Dr. Julia determined that Quinn's current state was not being caused by further deterioration but just a series of "bad days" as she put it. In fact, she added he looked "pretty good" considering that he could hardly stand at all yesterday. She tried some new strategies with the laser therapy and sent home a list of medicine tweaks we will continue until she sees him again next week. The WDA was surprised at how well he walked into the house.

Quinn is still fearful and his barks of distress throw all of us into high alert. He is still doing a bit of the wandering himself into being trapped (under my computer desk earlier) and he spent some time this evening dramatically barking if YoYoMa even looked at him. This upset YAWD who made sure that we all knew he truly wasn't hurting or intimidating; his feelings were hurt by Quinn's reaction.

But we have seen some improvement and we have hope. The White Dog Army is confident that the power of six White Dogs can accomplish anything.