Hugo is sick. He hasn’t eaten anything in almost a week now. Mom called the vet and we took him for a checkup this afternoon.
The doctor said that he was suffering from some sort of infection. It’s nothing serious, though. He said it was easily treatable. I was so relieved when he said that. My dog is the only thing I really couldn’t stand to lose. He’s everything I’ve got. I’m plagued by the thought that one day he’s going to die.
Sometimes I find myself picturing him dying and just imagining that shakes me to the core. Hugo’s such a heavy sleeper that it sometimes scares me. I remember periodically poking him to make sure he was alive. I avoid walking him in major streets because I’m afraid he might wrestle off his leash, rush headlong into traffic and get hit by a car. Better be safe than sorry, I guess.