Monty Chronicles, Part II, quirks

When Dave and I want to watch TV in the basement nowadays, I have to carry Monty down the stairs to join us, because he can’t handle the stairs anymore. My guess is that he’s afraid of falling because he can’t see where he’s going. I believe his eyesight has deteriorated even since the covid-19 crisis started (two months ago, in case anyone’s counting). I’ve noticed a little white patch on his left eye that I swear wasn’t there before. So, now he’s living in a very dim world, as I imagine it. He can’t hear, and now he can only see outlines or shadows. I would find it very intimidating, but he accepts this new reality as though it’s always been this way.

So anyway, I carry him downstairs, which usually means making two trips, one to carry him and another to carry my knitting and my drink. He settles into the couch with me and we watch our shows for awhile, me knitting away and he sawing logs. After an hour or two, he always gets up and waits until I put him down on the floor and then trots into the bedroom. Nowadays, I immediately wonder whether he’s gone in there to piddle somewhere (if he doesn’t have a diaper on), but the more likely scenario is that he’s found his way into the bathroom and is in the shower, licking the water from the floor. Actually, he often can’t get into the shower now if the shower curtain is drawn, especially when it’s dark, so I follow him in there to turn on the light, open the shower curtain and turn on the shower for a second, so there’s water for him to drink. There’s about a six inch lip to the shower so he has to scramble over it, one leg at a time, then he enthusiastically licks the shower floor. To some of the more meticulous among you it might sound unsanitary, but I find it endearing. Dogs each have their little peculiarities and habits. Why does he like the shower floor, yet hates getting his feet wet outside?

Monty has always been a pretty quiet dog, considering how yappy most little dogs are supposed to be. He used to bark at the doorbell and at some strangers, but now he rarely barks at all and he’s never been a whiner. He has other ways of communicating, though, mostly involving intense staring. If he goes into the bathroom and can’t get into the shower he eventually gives up and comes back into the family room, where he stares at me expectantly until I overcome my laziness enough to help him out. I’ve gotten smart lately and I set up the bathroom the way he likes it before I sit down: light on, shower curtain open, water on the shower floor.

Although it’s hard watching my sweet little guy get old and dotty, I’m very grateful to the present crisis for allowing me to be there for him during his decline. I wish the same could be said for many people separated from their elderly parents by this awful pandemic.

On a happier note, Monty still seems to be trucking along for the moment, still finding pleasure out of licking the shower floor and begging at the table, and no longer panics during thunderstorms.

My daughter, singer, Erica Lee Martin, who I’ve been featuring a lot here, has been presenting live concerts on Youtube fairly often, which you can always watch later if you can’t get to them live. Below is one she did yesterday. It’s about 30 minutes long, and it’s really delightful. She sings a few of her own songs as well as a couple of covers. Enjoy!