I thought I was losing my office staff this morning.
My dog, who spends her days in my office with me, woke up in a pool of blood. She's 17, awfully old for a dog. The husband took her to the vet because I couldn't bear the idea of having to put her down. She's too old to take any real drastic measures, you know? I didn't expect to ever see her again.
But there she was, running across the kitchen floor for the door to go outside. She has a gum problem, which caused the bleeding. She needs some medical care, but the vets said for such an old dog, despite being blind and having back legs that don't work so well any more, she's surprisingly healthy and there was no reason to put her to sleep.
So she's back to her position on the office floor, snoring away. And I couldn't be happier to share my office.