And then, yesterday, she barked. One solitary bark. "Where are you??"
Have we turned a corner? It is still too risky to hope. Miss Molly is nearing her 15th birthday, and, having survived cancer not once but twice, as well as currently sporting a heart murmur that can be heard across the room, early chronic kidney disease, and not one, but two ruptured ACLs,* I'd call her "One Tough Cookie.**" But still.
For each meal, I cook something I hope she'll eat. Inevitably it becomes my own dinner. Roasted chicken, fish fillets, omelets, pizza bones, and on and on. Yesterday I browned some $8/lb beef***. She took a morsel, but no more. Inspired by a recent trip to Ireland, I made a cottage pie for myself. What luck that it was cold and rainy****! I offered her a tiny taste, onion hazard be damned*****. She wanted more! And this morning? More please! So today, I'm making her her own cottage pie, free of all alliums.
And I hope.******
*Those are her little knee ligaments. Surgically fixable, unless you have both heart and kidney disease. Still, tough little tractor that she is, she does what she wants, and is downright heroic during her underwater treadmill rehab sessions!
**Meanwhile, a surgeon half way around the world has said the same about my father.
***No factory farmed meat for us, ho, ho!
****No, not in Tucson. I'm back at the farm in Utah. The Ducati is soon to follow.
*****Heinz body hemolytic anemia, anyone?
******Turns out that UTI is being caused by a resistant strain of bacteria, so the antibiotics I had been giving her have done nothing. Though I just got a different prescription for her, the only one both effective (albeit slowly) and safe for her little kidneys, I do believe my tough little cookie has already begun winning this battle on her own.