Poor Bean

Poor Bean. Since his 14th birthday he seems to be falling a lot more often. We have had so many incidents with him over the past 4 years and every time something happens we think, "Is this the end?" And I sob and sob and start planning his memorial service. And then he miraculously pulls through and we are so happy. And then he eats a bag of whole wheat flour out of the lazy susan and poops all over the dining room and we think, "huh." And the cycle continues.

Last night Jack was laying on the jiminy and we were all sitting around staring at him with bated breath, waiting for him to roll over. This is a nightly occurrence now, and I think we'll keep up this vigil until he does in fact roll over, or worse, we pick him up from daycare and find out that it happened there.

Bean thinks if we are all sitting around staring at, and loving something on the floor, it should be him, poor guy. So he keeps walking past, muttering under his breath. He can't get too close because of the arches over the jiminy, but he managed to get close enough so that when he fell last night he landed almost on top of, but actually right next to Jack. Poor, poor bean. Because after the indignity of the fall he ended up with a handful of his fur in Jack's iron grasp. I was about 24 inches away but I had to dive forward in slow motion with a "Noooooooooooooooooo" because I have had my hair in that grasp, and Dave has even had chest hair in the grasp and it hurts, hurts, hurts.

The Bean of yesteryear would have let out a scary growl. The Bean of 1994 might have even bitten someone. But Poor Bean made a noise that sounded like this, "You have got to be kidding me with this. Can someone get him away from me?"


Poor Bean.

(I have a great video of Jack not rolling over, but I am having technical difficulties uploading it. I hope to post it soon.)