Yesterday we took Tess to the vet's, who told us that there is nothing more that can be done. Keep her on the steroids, antibiotics and painkillers, and bring her back next Wednesday, although she did not expect her to last until then.
Tess is comfortable, constantly hungry (steroids do that), but needs to go outside to relieve herself every two to three hours. We now take turns, and stay with her all day and all night. 

Christmas Eve

 Are any of these for me? I think I can smell a dog treat. 

He is serving up the creamy dessert. I'll have some of that too, please.

Christmas Countdown

I am told that in Iceland there are thirteen naughty Christmas trolls, called Jólasveinar. They used to be bad, but have turned nice, started dressing like Santa, and nowadays they put gifts in shoes which Icelandic kids put in their window every evening for the last 13 days before Christmas. In our half-Icelandic household the dog gets a treat wrapped in fancy paper every night after dinner.  I enjoy that tradition, and know where to look. 

It's been snowing

I have always been a cold weather dog, so I like this. The human members of my family don't agree, they keep wishing it would go away.

Pills

We saw the vet again yesterday.  I trembled like a leaf while we were in the waiting room, and to make it even worse this big collie came. I have never liked collies. The vet checked me over and gave me new pills. Pills mean bigger dinners (to hide them in) or even pieces of cheese to disguise them. Not too bad.

New pictures

This is me this afternoon, telling them to take me out for a walk and I always get what I ask for. 

Happy and relaxed, until it is time for my next dinner.

 I am beautiful.

Tearing up empty cereal boxes is one of my favourite occupations. I always get a box of some sort after my dinner, with a treat inside. Mom thinks that working on a cardboard box is good for cleaning my teeth and gums. 

Autumn. This would have been a good photo for a Halloween card. Scary.

Feeling better

They thought my end was near last Thursday when I suddenly became very ill. I was very hot and restless and would not even eat, and that means I am not myself at all.  I was carried out to the car and rushed to see the vet, who poked a thermometer up my behind and gave me a couple of  jabs. A few hours later I was able to eat a bit of chicken and yesterday I felt as if nothing had happened. They are shattered, however, and I get every treat I ask for.

After dinner

When I have had my evening meal (never after breakfast or lunch) I get a sudden burst of energy. When I was young I would run madly about the house and garden, challenging them to a ball game or a tug-of-war, or I would fiercely attack a toy and rip it to shreds. Nowadays I still feel the urge to have a little game when I am full and happy. 

Are you talking to me?

Here I am, feeling good, enjoying the autumn. Cooler days have always suited me best.