On day 1 of recovery, yesterday, Mick had quite the day! Firstly, Arielle had to work (I’ve been working from home since the pandemic), so it was just me, Toby, and Mick.

The night before, it was decided that I would stay sleeping on the first floor with Mick, to keep him calm, and not have him take any stairs. To say the night was eventful, is to be expected. He was never used to sleeping by himself (he is a cuddler), and is a couch potato. We were told to have him not jump on the couch, and for every hour he would get up, which would get me up and I would be giving him 20 questions. Do you need to pee? Do you need water? Do you want pets or cuddles? It all was a ruse for him to have me get off the couch, and sit with him on his bed until he would fall asleep.

The start of day 1 was difficult. With Arielle leaving early (6:30 AM), and not sure of the routine yet, I had to get Mick to do his business, eat breakfast, his cocktail of meds, and keep him off the couch. I succeed in all but the last.

After getting him to eat, do his business, and give him his meds, I accidentally ran into a more convenient water bowl near his bed and knocked some whatever on the floor. Afraid he would step in it and fall, I ran upstairs to get some towels. I came back down, and as I was cleaning the mess he took the opportunity to jump on the couch! Well, he’s been jumping on the couch for a few years, so he knew what he was doing.

From there, he turned back into his cuddly self, and I sat next to him as he was sleeping away. Such a good boy, that can give me a heart attack. Now I will pick him up to get him onto and off the couch.

-Steve

PS: Toby, his brother, has been so good with him. He knows from our energy and tone to be gentle where he goes. Toby can be a bulldozer at times.