I have not written a blog post in a year, thirteen months actually, and I chose the above honor bestowed upon my little doggy’s vet to galvanize myself into action.
I am so proud of her! She is not only the best veterinarian I know in terms of not only proper care but also with her bedside manner, which is very important when you have a little animal quivering in fear before a needle or worse, a thermometer! Dr. Potosky is also the authority I refer to when I give you guys information about dogs in general or Yorkies, especially my Yorkie, in particular. I know it’s the year 2019 now, but these are the most recent awards in this and other categories of exceptional performance by businesses and individuals in Lee County, North Carolina, where I live.
My dog, Mason, has reached the age of 3 ½.
While he’s certainly not old yet, he is past the real puppy stage. He still has many bursts of immaturity when he does all kinds of things I don’t want him to do, or just races me when I am sedately walking him along the road, so he can drag me along on his leash. I love those puppy bursts of energy, and I feel sad when I think about his getting old. I have a friend whose thirteen-year-old Yorkie Ginger recently had to be put to sleep because she had kidney problems. After dialysis for a while, it became clear that things weren’t going to change, so he had her put to sleep by his vet and then he buried her in his doggy cemetery that he and his wife made space for in the side yard, since they have had several dogs, all Yorkies, over many years.
I didn’t meet Ginger until she was thirteen and though I met her before she became ill, she slept most of the time already and wasn’t interested in anything around her. I never saw her snoop around the back yard, unerringly heading straight for the porch, where it developed that a black king snake and possibly a rabbit were living. That’s what Mason did, and I was told that Ginger was once upon a time fast at finding and chasing critters. I believe it, because that’s what dogs do, always getting involved in whatever piece of action might be taking place in their vicinity. And I know that Ginger might have been happy in her quiet days, but I can’t imagine it ever being normal for my energetic little Mason to enjoy a life of mostly sleeping. But you are probably thinking to yourself, “Phyllis, that’s what dogs do!” I guess I’ll have that understanding when he reaches doggy old age. I know I’ll love him no matter what.
I’m including photos of Mason with his Hispanic friend, Panchito. Since he’s a very social dog, Mason makes friends with every animal or person we encounter. Panchito understand Spanish, since his owners are Spanish-speaking, so when we see him, I shout (because he’s over by his house and I’m out walking along the road) “Hola, Panchito!” Mason just barks, which they both understand, and Panchito runs out to play for a bit.