Jesse Lou Bagget, our superannuated Carpathian Shepherd, hates thunderstorms. This has not been his year. We have had more and more violent thunderstorms this year than I have ever experienced (except in the Tampa area). Consequently, I have had to endure Jesse's pitiable but unremediable discomfort. If it's overnight, I get little sleep because he keeps trying to hide in ridiculously small spaces and makes a mess of things and a huge racket to boot. Jasper the Salopian Terrier is oblivious to the storms.
I would like to get some doggie downers, but I'm afraid that Jesse might be too frail for them. Maybe I'll just lock him out of the bedroom. It's not as if I can console him or anything. Poor old guy. He'd probably piss on stuff if I lock him out. That's how he rolls.
Lately, and I suspect his loss of balance is the cause, Jesse has been pooping while he walks instead of stopping and depositing a pile. Seriously, turds just fly out of his ass, and you have to be careful if you're walking behind him. Sometimes, I think he doesn't even know he's pooping. I find small turds here and there around the house. Fortunately, Jesse's poop is almost always well formed and in small quantities. Jasper, on the other hand, lays cable. It looks as if a dinosaur has taken a crap.
When you live with dogs, you get used to the occasional bodily excretion on the floor. When you get up in the night to pee, you pray that what you stepped in is vomit. Vomit is the least objectional of the canine ejecta. Jesse likes to vomit on the shelves of book cases for some reason, but he rarely vomits. Jasper vomits when his pancreatitits to which he is prone flares up. I had some beagles who seemed to vomit just for the hell of it.
It's hard to see the dogs get old.