Worried as Hell

The chronicling of the last coupla days can wait…gotta write about what’s on my mind right now.

Todd comes in my room about ten after seven this morning. [Yes, he’s home.] As soon as I’m clearly cognizant of the world, he asks, “Which vet did you take Toby to before?” I tell him, and then I ask what’s up. Apparently, Toby’s breathing like he just ran a marathon, and to put it simply, his back legs don’t work. They bow out like a madman, and he drags his paws rather than walking on them.

Needless to say, I’m worried as hell for the little guy. So’s Todd.

It’s a bitch to concentrate on work this morning…