First, let me say that I live just across the river from Philadelphia, City of Brotherly Love and home to the Phillies, who just won the NL East (again). We have such die-hard fans around here that fans stayed in the stadium cheering and celebrating well after the end of the game - and even after they turned the lights off on the field.
That same sort of enthusiasm and dogged determination (heh, I kill me) has been shown by Wally, who went to PetPT again last night. He's halfway through his six-treatment cycle (twice/week for three weeks), and Mr. McFuzzyPants was in quite a mood last night. Quoth Dr. Russell Howe-Smith, DVM, "I think he's angry."
Indeed. Wally was biting at the water in the pool. Doing weird things with his head and front paws when he reached the platform, usually involving sticking one or more of those things through the side slats and generally displaying a bad attitude. We think it's because his dinner was delayed.
On the plus side, Wally was a kicking machine in the pool last night, bad attitude or no, and so it came to pass that at the end of his swimming session, Russell put him on the treadmill. The treadmill in this case operates in the floor of a thick plexiglass box that is filled with water to the appropriate level (roughly shoulder level for Wally) so as to take a decent amount of weight off the dog's legs. Russell climbed in and sat behind Wally for this session while I plied him with animal crackers, and whaddya know? There was Wally, trotting along on the treadmill like a regular dog.
He can't trot like a regular dog on dry land just yet, but from here on out, there's no more swimming for the little guy. It's all treadmill for a while. Here's hoping that he gets his feet under him soon!