Between 1.30 AM, when he finally dozed off, and 8.00 AM, when we ‘started’ our day, he’d already woken us up twice. The first time he whined, I took him to the living room and let him walk about, and after 20 minutes and 4 puddles, he finally dozed off again. Thinking that he was perhaps worried about the cage (and mistaking his drool for urine on the towel), we placed him back inside the cardboard box (laid with a shawl Seema had brought along, and therefore something familiar for him) right beside the bed. In retrospect, I am not sure if we’d needed to – he’s adapted well to being put back in the cage at night – but it worked anyway. He settled down, and woke me up only at half past six because he needed to ‘go’ again.
I keep him in the living room, figuring that the narrow balcony we have is too cold and too windy to make him comfortable, but given the number of things that could pose a risk (or be at risk), he’s either inside the cage (whining from time to time), or on the cloth leash, roaming about within a safe radius, with me always just a couple of feet away. Definitely not a long-term solution!
He’s quieter during the day than expected, despite the fondness for nibbling on my toes and fingers every chance he gets. He’s a small fellow and doesn’t have much behind the bite, and it’s every once in a while when a surprisingly sharp bite causes me to yelp, and scare him into letting up for a few seconds.
The vet, Dr. Nagraj, comes in the afternoon, takes one look and proclaims, “Pomeranian cross, eh?” Picks him, turns him around. Asks about the diet.
“Biscuits and milk,” I tell him.
“He’s constipated,” Doc says. Takes out his notepad and scribbles out Liv-52 and Digyton. “These will help loosen his bowels and regulate digestion. Give him Cerelac for newborns, something with lots of protein. Milk’s okay, but dilute it a little. Biscuits are dry, which is why they cause constipation.” He also recommends a 1ml dose of a dewormer, to be increased to 1.5 ml after another fifteen days. That’ll coincide with his next visit when we’ll vaccinate Buttons. “Until then, he’s very susceptible to infection – so don’t take him outside, especially where other dogs are/have been.”
All the while, Buttons has been trying to get at his toes.
Evening, we go to pick Gow up. Buttons, I discover, is a cool traveller, especially when he’s a little sleepy at the start itself. The drive is short, barely a couple of kilometers, but it’s a nice experiment because there will be longer drives in our future. He dozes off two minutes later and wakes up two hours later, and in the meantime, we get the meds and a chew toy from a pet shop on Bowring Rd.
It’s a late night for us again. Buttons gets up at around 9, and we give him his first taste of Cerelac. He likes it, although I suspect he left the parts with the medicinal drops alone as much as he could. He suckers us into playing with him – you just can’t say no when he looks at you as if to say, “Youdontwanttoplay?” – and it’s about 11 by the time we finish.
“Were you able to get through your plans for the day?” Gowri asks me as we retire.
“A lot more than expected,” I tell her. Would be a lot more if this responsibility hadn’t come up, we both think. But one look at Buttons, and we shrug off that thought.
It’s worth it.