Paul Lester Photo

A couple of months ago when Hobbs was diagnosed with diabetes, another doctor examined him as well, an opthalmologist. She said:

It’s not a matter of “if” he’ll get cataracts, it’s a matter of when. Please keep a close eye on him, as they could form over the weekend. They happen fast.

For the next two months, he was fine. The other day, I noticed that his eyes looked strange. They had the look like when you take a picture of a dog, using a flash. You see the reflection of their retina and it looks white or gray. I hadn’t taken a picture and they looked that way in normal room light. Also, I had noticed that he was having trouble walking with me in the mornings. No trouble in keeping up, but sometimes accidentally crossing my path or not responding when I turned to the left, right into him.

I tried an experiment. I broke off a piece of one of his treats, tossed it to him. He usually catches with aplomb. Hobbs doesn’t miscalculate when a treat is thrown; however, this time, the treat hit him on the nose, bounced off, landed on the floor right in front of him and he couldn’t find it at first. A good amount of sniffing finally yielded the goody.

This afternoon, after taking him out to the bathroom, a bright sunny day, upon re-entering the apartment, he was very hesitant, as the interior was rather dim. He had to trust me to lead him because he couldn’t see where to go. Poor pup. I had been considering that he was hard of hearing as well and was able to confirm that. When I call him, no response. If I call somewhat loudly, he can hear it, but can’t tell from where it comes and looks all around. I have to wave my arms vigorously to get his attention.

Earlier in the afternoon, when I opened the door to the patio because of the nice weather, he went immediately to the threshold of the door, sat down, and enjoyed the bright sunlight. I can only suppose that it made him feel good to be able to see.

This morning, I called to make an appointment for him to see the eye doctor. He has an appointment on December 28th, the earliest he could be seen.

Yeah, it will be an expensive New Year, but well worth it for my buddy. Surgery is next, then the 6 weeks of recovery. I’ll keep you posted.

Things have been a bit off since my visit to Australia. Certainly this had nothing to do with Australia, at least I don’t think so. Since I’ve been walking, the last 18 months or so, I’ve not missed a single week of walking; however, since Australia, there have been more weeks than I care to admit where I walked only once or twice in the week. I could give a hundred excuses as to why, and some of them might sound pretty good, but they’d be excuses nonetheless.

This past weekend, I made it a point to stop offering excuses and get back to walking. I walked 5.5 miles on Saturday and on Sunday. This morning, I did only 4 because I had to come back and get ready for work. The sunrise is at 7:30 now, so I leave around 7:00 … I want to be able to take pictures, too.

Per Monte’s suggestion of yesterday, I put my Canon S90 in my pocket this morning, and set about my walk, intending to take some handheld macro photos, of which this is one of them. The walk is different now, without Hobbs, who cannot even come close to keeping with me and forget about the distance, so he gets his own short, 3 block walk after I’m finished.

As I leaned down to take this picture, I had a number of thoughts about life’s seasons, particularly about Hobbs, remembering when it was painful to take him for a walk when he was young. He was so full of vigor, swagger, and hard headedness, that he was a constant challenge to get under control. Spring.

Later, as he grew older, he became a slightly better listener, could always be out in front of me and give me a serious run for my money. Those were the days when I could take him to the park, let him run in the fields for hours, and then we’d head home, him asleep on the seat of the car. Summer.

Now, he can’t keep up. He’s very easy to manage because he just wants to go out, do his business, come back in, and sleep. I miss him on my walks. Autumn.

I had another thought this morning while I was waiting for him to finish. I let him walk off leash for the most part and he walks very slowly, at his own pace. He ambles. I don’t rush him. I think of the times when I’ve seen younger folks taking care of their aged parents. It does my heart good to see those who are so very patient with the elderly. I feel like that person, now.

In truth, Hobbs is old. He’ll be 12 on October 31st. However, I do believe that he’ll get back some of his energy after he gets stabilized, at least I hope so. He’s a cool guy to have walks, even if he makes it difficult to take photos with his constant pulling to get that nose of his over that interesting smell.

Today was a long day for Mr. Hobbs. I noticed that for the past couple of weeks, he’s been exceptionally thirsty. His bowl holds about 48 ounces of water, or about 1500 ml, or so. Normally it would take him about 2 days to empty it. This is normal, as the vet says about 1 ounce of water per pound. He weighs in at about 24 pounds (11 Kg), so 48 ounces in two days is about right. Lately, he’s been consuming it at about 4x that rate. Two bowls per day!!! Naturally, this causes him to have to go to the bathroom very frequently.

I had also noticed that his fur was getting wet around his belly and hind legs. At first I thought that he was licking himself a lot, but then didn’t see the truth in that. Upon closer inspection, I found out that he was ‘leaking’. It was urine. He was consuming so much water that his bladder couldn’t hold it. Also, during his walks this week, he was lagging behind considerably after only a block or two. I knew something was very wrong.

This morning, I took him to the vet. I did a walk-in. They saw him right away, did an examination, took blood and urine, and pronounced that he had canine diabetes! His blood sugar level was 652. Normal range for dogs is about 73-123. The doctor referred me to a specialist.

We returned home and waited for the specialist to call. They called about an hour later and set us up for an appointment at 2:30 PM. We took the appointment. Hobbs was a super trooper, trying to ‘regulate’ while he was there, you know, take charge. For such a super duper bad guy, he sure needed some coaxing to go with the doctor when it was time for his exam.

After the exam, the doctor told me that we needed to get him started on his insulin regimen this evening. She prescribed insulin and a special type of canned dog food to mix with his regular food.

When we left, Hobbs, who is usually all excited to jump in the car and search the floorboards for food, simply looked up at me and waited for me to pick him up. He was tired. Too much activity for one day.

We drove home, I dropped him off, filled the prescription, came home, fed him, and gave him his first insulin shot … of many. He’ll need it for the rest of his life. He’s my buddy and I’ll be taking care of him. He’s taken care of me plenty of times when I was down in the dumps. Now, it’s my turn to return the favor!

He’s eaten. His belly is full. He’s taking his nap right now, a much needed nap.