Willie, our teacup poodle, stormed into our lives (and hearts) twelve years ago and is still going strong. He has a high-pitched and ferocious bark, an ability to jump up and off of things we’d never have imagined, and a desire to be the center of attention.

Although he has slowed down a bit, Willie reminds me, in all five pounds of his smallness, to appreciate the small things in life. Each and every day. If I’ve had a rough day at work, he is there to wag his tail a mile a minute and yap at me with happiness. When let outside to play on warm days, he runs around the yard and hops along to visit his favorite spots. If another dog is walking along the sidewalk, he lets it be known that he is the protector of our home. He has always been a little hopper…bouncing around from one lap to another, to the floor, to a lap, to the couch, up and over and up and over. Annoying as it can be, he is the king of the castle and he knows it.

Around the end of 2018, Willie stopped using one of his back legs and started hopping around even more. We noticed a decline in his appetite and started to worry. Two vet visits later, the leg wasn’t improving and we finally decided a surgery to repair his knee was in order.


On his way for a grooming before his surgery.

When Willie came home with his tiny leg wrapped up in a cast, my heart sank. Our little hopper was going to be very restricted in his movement. As I read through the post-surgical instructions, full recovery was a twelve-week process and I shuttered to think how we were going to juggle the meds, covering his leg each time he went outside and most of all, keeping him from bouncing around the house. Since he is pretty much always at our heels, the kennel is not a place he tolerates if we are home.

After the first day home post-surgery, I began to think I had found a new calling as a nurse. I actually enjoyed getting up two or three times in the night to let Willie outside, wearily wrapping his leg in plastic to avoid letting moisture into the cast. I felt like a million bucks when Willie would refuse to eat from his bowl, yet eat out of my hand with such gusto. I’d eagerly run through a mental checklist as he would become restless in the night and try to ascertain what he needed. Water? Some reassurance? A bit more pain medicine?


The first of two casts…

We are now headed into the fifth week of his recovery. The casts and meds are behind us, the cone of shame is no longer needed and he is allowed to move around in three minute increments. Still no hopping, jumping or running is allowed, but he is taking this all in stride.

Today, the first real sign of progress was noted! Willie started to use his back leg again, testing it out a bit here and there. It gives me hope that his recovery will be a success and we’ll have him back to his old self very soon. More importantly, Willie has reminded me that small joys can still be found even in the most trying of times.


8 thoughts on “Willie

  1. What a good boy! Quite honestly, I scrolled to the end of the post first to mentally prepare myself in case anything bad happened to Willie (didn’t use my close reading skills in the first paragraph). I’m so glad he’s much better now! He reminds me a lot of my dogs and your doting nature reminds me a lot of how good my husband is with these things. Thank you for giving us a little peek into your world!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Could not have happened without your love.

    In fact, the world could not mend without the care and concern people make *the decision* to extend to others.. I think it’s even possible that we have that opportunity to make that decision every moment.


    So happy about your pup! I hope he lives a long an happy life! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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