For the first two and a half weeks after I broke my wrist and ankle the dog looked so sad. Guilt was written all over him. He had that hang-dog, I know I've done wrong, I'm a bad dog, look. It was pitiful. We tried to give extra love to let him know it was all right. Or at least it will be eventually. But he just followed behind me, looking guilty, and growling at anyone that came near my wrist or ankle.
But I noticed last week a change in his demeanor. He wasn't looking guilty any more. Which was a good thing, I was glad about that. But he was beginning to look annoyed. I know animals try to hide when they are injured. I figure he was expecting me to be up and moving around by now. (I did too, but I'm not as young as I used to be, and that's a different story)
It's clear now that he's decided I'm malingering. I'm not getting up and getting around like I should. I'm not taking him for walks. I'm not doing what I should be doing. In his eyes I'm obviously just milking it. Oh well.
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I'm busy working on my blog posts. Watch this space!