The
other night, while working in my pottery studio in the basement, I did not see
Darcy. Unusual, I thought as she typically lays at the base of the stairs,
just outside my studio, waiting for me to take a break. Home alone, I started to get concerned.
Ever
since her accident,
Darcy’s left leg has not been the same. I changed our daily constitutional to
one mile treks as opposed to the three miles we used to do. Even so, that leg
worries me.
So
I called for her, but she did not appear. Concerned, I washed off the clay and
went looking for Darcy. Calling her name as I climbed the stairs she finally
appeared at the top. I retreated back to the basement and assumed she would
follow, but she stayed on the first floor.
I called
to her again and she started descending. Her facial expression showed that crooked
dog smile I came to know and love as a typical greeting when I returned home.
But this time she kept baring her teeth and shoving her face at me. She kind of
crept down the stairs, keeping her butt close to each step and hiding whether
her tail was wagging. While I did not think it aggressive, I thought it
incredibly weird. Plus, she started to remind me of Cujo and I felt pretty
freaked out.
She
continued with a grunting sound, pushing her face at me and baring her teeth.
When she got to the base of the stairs, Darcy crouched and I thought she might
take a pee or poop. I quickly ran with her upstairs and let her out, but she
remained on the deck showing no need to relieve herself. I let her back in the
house.
Then,
I thought, Maybe she did something naughty and started to look around the first floor of the
house. Darcy followed close by and I found no evidence of wrong-doing.
I
decided then that she needed to see the veterinarian. The leg injury had taken a toll on
her brain. When my husband returned about an hour later, I told him we needed
to schedule an appointment for Darcy with the vet as soon as possible. I explained what happened and that I
had checked to see if she had done anything that could possibly explain her
behavior, but all appeared fine. She was losing it. He looked concerned.
I
returned to my studio and my husband went upstairs to our bedroom. Five minutes
later I heard him holler, She got into the bathroom trash. Sure enough,
Darcy, who will eat anything, looked for tempting treats, strewing around the
garbage and eating who knows what.
Mystery
solved and no vet appointment necessary.
