Pom penis blues

[Drunk Monk]

Last night was rough. Jingles had one of his anxiety attacks, coupled with coughing fits. Stacy and Tara really needed sleep, so I spent the night in our living room, trying to calm Jingles. It gave me flashbacks to so many talkdowns I've done, being awake in the dark with another sentient being, struggling to help them find peace so I can sleep myself. It's not the first time I've talked down a four-legged companion. We went outside a lot, in the front yard, as that seems to calm him. I could hear the ocean and see the stars. Jingles has been digging a little nest under the lemon bush and he tucked in there and would not come out. He snapped at me when I pulled him out of there (it was cold and I wasn't going to spend all night watching him outside). It was the most vicious snap he's ever directed at me. Poor pom.

This morning he was much better, peppy at first, ate some breakfast and his meds, and then started napping on the couch. The way my mom sets him up should be better - he'll get more attention and he can run around all crazy if he wants as it's a big house and a big yard. My mom tends to get up a lot at night anyway. She never sleeps the night through. Tomorrow, we'll drop him off at my mom's and she'll take us to the train station (our flight is in the evening). I'll bid goodbye to my dear sweet pom, and hope I'll get to see his smiling face and twinkling eyes again next year upon our return. We'll entrust him to my mom, who can provide a familiar resting place, a peaceful home he's known for years. And if he passes there, like my companions from childhood, he'll be with a loved one, and I'll just have to reunite with him on the other side.