I’d be lying if I said we’re not struggling to keep going. The days—and nights—keep taking their toll.
Now along with Wink needing me to always be within sight inside (or he cries nonstop until I am back in view), we’re at the point where, even though we have a huge fenced yard and dog door that he’s used since he was a puppy, he won’t go outside anymore unless he’s tethered to me. So all potty breaks are now on leash starting at 6 am and ending around 9 pm.
It’s official, he needs me in his “sight” (smell is more like it) 100% of the time. This is us in the backyard.
Andrew jokes that it’s he who has me on the leash rather than the other way around. Actually, I don’t find that funny because it’s too close to true.
The challenge is to try to walk without tripping over him because he insists on practically touching me when we’re on the road.
Do I mind? I’d do anything for this little guy, so no I don’t mind. That’s not the overwhelming feeling. That looks more like sadness at seeing my love slip from me inch by inch. So, I too am happy to feel his connection through the leash. It means we’re still together.
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