[Dailydrool] Charlie makes a dramatic entrance and exit

[Elizabeth]

Yesterday I took young Charlie Basset to a physical therapy consultation. He’s been losing muscle tone and strength in his hind legs, which is problematic because his wonky front legs and feet really need for his back end to do its full share of the load-bearing work. As he’s aged (he’ll be fourteen next month), his front end has been sinking down further onto his front legs and feet, making them even more bent and causing the pronation of his front feet to become even more pronounced. 

So I took him to a physical therapist to talk about what we might do to strengthen his back end. Wobble boards and underwater treadmill work will be involved, as well as some floor exercises I believe he’ll interpret as being dancing (freestyle). Charlie enjoys dancing. Our late Elsinore Basset, who had two strokes in three weeks in her last year, worked an underwater treadmill like a trooper. I could see a difference in her strength and mobility within just a couple of sessions. I was terribly relieved my strong-willed girl didn’t fight a form of therapy that, on the surface, appears far more suitable for water-loving breeds, of which a basset is not. I hope Charlie will approach it with the same acceptance and workman-like attitude.

Charlie’s first appointment was marked by an impressive dramatic entrance. It was in the teens yesterday, with a cold breeze and about three inches of snow on the ground and ice on the sidewalks. Charlie insisted on wallowing in the snow on the way to the front door because, apparently, that’s where all the good smells were. But then he got snow between his pads. I’d put a coat on him but forgotten about his snow boots. It’s only November, so I’m not really thinking about these kinds of things yet.

He limped his way through the snow to the sidewalk and went flat basset on the ice. I cleared the snow out from between his pads and encouraged him up. He took two painful steps and collapsed on the sidewalk again, this time on his side, shivering pitifully. A receptionist and a client rushed out, positive they’d just witnessed a tragic medial emergency. The client scooped Charlie up in her arms, rushed him inside, and then sat down and cuddled him while he shook and shuddered. It was an Oscar-worthy performance.

Before we left the building at the end of his appointment, I stuffed his resisting feet into the hated booties he wears as house shoes (for traction on the hard floors) and that I’d brought to show the physical therapist. I put him back into his coat. I took him out the front door. He theatrically fell down onto his side on the icy sidewalk again and refused to get up. More shivering and shaking. More gratifying attention from inside the building. 

I wound up carrying him to the car, walking through the snow-covered mulch beside the sidewalk so I wouldn’t slip on its ice and fall with Charlie in my arms. He had a miraculous recovery within seconds of being put inside the car and out of view of his audience, even before I turned the heater on.

It seems that Charlie does not like wearing a coat or boots, and he’s decided the best way to deal with the situation is through passive resistance in the form of going flat basset on his side. Preferably with a gullible audience close by. I hope his next appointment will occur on a warmer day. It’s not easy carrying a drama queen while we’re both in full winter gear. 

Elizabeth
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