Goodness, how we love our pets! I can post a thousand-word thumb-sucker piece about immigration, race relations, or the state of the world without drawing a single reader email in response; but a passing mention of poor Toby's declining condition (first segment here) has them pouring in.
Many, many thanks to all for your kind thoughts and concern. X-rays show some sort of tumor or mass pressing on the little guy's esophagus, so he can't get solid food down. We're doing the best we can with broth, and the protein drink I take after my workout, and some steroids the vet gave us.
Toby doesn't seem to be in any distress, but he's getting very thin and not moving around much. We're prepared for the worst, but in the meantime shall keep him as happy and comfortable as we can.
How we love them! Some years ago I was listening to a program on Radio 4 in England, an interview with an elderly clergyman. What, the interviewer wanted to know, was the theological question parishioners most often asked him?
He: "Oh, that's an easy one. Commonest question by far: 'Shall I see my dog in Heaven?'"