I've experienced a change of pace as of late.  The pain continues to come and go in spurts, so I find myself in a constant struggle to either control it or ignore it.

Perhaps there's been a change in weather – living in the Southwest, sometimes it's difficult to tell exactly when "summer" ends and "fall" (if we even have one) begins.  But a cool breeze has about recently.

I find myself lounging by the patio door, soaking up the sun's heat.  My pets have noticed my preferred spot of choice, moving my water bowl next to my kitchen mat.

I'm not much in the mood to complain this week.  I'm having too much fun lying here.

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So I'm getting older.  And have to go to the bathroom more often.

Deal.

The endless love I shower upon you, my Two-Leggeds, should more than make up for a quick bathroom respite here and there.

Recently my pets took me to visit others related to them -- who, I claim by default as my pets, too.  I enjoy seeing them.  They take pity on my haggard, osteoarthritis-riddled knees and slide me honey ham beneath the table.  (My pets work tirelessly to hide their food from me.  Like my knees could get any worse.)

But the car ride over irks me.  Something about the canned sounds, the lack of space, and the constant vibrations ... I step out of the car for a bathroom break and find my already sore knees unable to function.  Dizziness invariably ensues.

I thought humans were supposed to be the most brilliant creatures on earth.  But, after all this time, they still haven't figured out how to fix my knees, nor fly their cars -- thus achieving a smoother trip?

I guess I have to deal.

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So I think my two-legged pets are trying to poison me again.

Every day, as soon as I have finished my meal, I cannot help but feel itchy all over -- to the point of squirming.  I find myself every afternoon writhing on the carpet, on my back, in pure itching annoyance.

My pets think it is "cute."

But I cannot help but wonder ... what is it I am being fed that causes such a physical disturbance for me?

Rolling on the ground only temporarily relieves my back.  To get to the inside of my paws -- which, believe you me, burn like they are being held aloft a flame -- I find myself licking and gnawing into my paw pad, desperate for my too-short teeth to scratch the burning skin below.

Couple the exertion of rolling around, bending and contorting with osteoarthritis (in four legs, thank you), and it makes for an exhausting afternoon.  Every day.

It has to be something in the food ...

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I am fascinated by the Two Leggers.  I cannot deny it -- I always have been.

Whether my own pets, or those of fellow Canines, humans intrigue me endlessly.  Perhaps too much so, as I want nothing more than to meet and greet every person who comes through the door.

Which is, apparently, problematic for my pets.  They take every pain to keep me from the new humans -- even going so far as to barricade me in another room when my attempts at freedom prove almost fruitful.

I do not understand.  Here I am -- with my heart overflowing with love -- and I am being punished.

Which in itself is intriguing.  Damn.

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Today my Two-Legged Pets took me to the vet.  Where I had my temperature taken.

I don't want to talk about it.

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