The days turn into nights
Arlene now sleeps in our bathroom with the door closed. This keeps her pacing to a much smaller venue. Inevitably, she wedges herself between the toilet and the wall – the evidence of her there is the nose line along the white wall. This morning she got underneath the stool and dragged it clanging and scraping the hard floors. What possesses a dog to wedge into a corner, to pace endlessly, to drink maniacally?
For mom, there is a well worn path by her kitchen counter, where she moves from phone, to Ceiva, to cigarettes and ashtray. I saw the path through hordes of magazines and bags when I went by there to bring her some groceries. How small must our world get for us to feel comfortable in old age?
December 8th, 2008 at 10:33 pm
check arlene for a urinary tract infection, maybe?
December 9th, 2008 at 9:24 am
She had a full check up – looking up doggy dementia – she exhibits almost classic signs – the pacing, the frequent drinking, the corners, the panting, the incontinence.