We Are Eleven

His Royal Herbiness has just celebrated his eleventh birthday. Unlike hobbits, he won't live to see his eleventy-first birthday, but I'm pretty happy with eleven. The Cortaflex HA (with hyaluronic acid) seems to have given him a bit more flexibility, and he's no longer pushing his hips into my hands, saying "Rub my rear", so I'm assuming it's doing something.

Happy Birthday, old white-faced dog.

April At Last

... and Herbie's still here. I've been offline for a couple of weeks, trouble with my broadband and my PC, but I've patched up something and can finally get my net addiction fed again. It's only when you can't view anything online that the twitching sets in... Holly is looking sleek and glossy on her new diet. I finally realised she is somewhat allergic to chicken, and since I cut chicken out of her diet completely, her fur has become incredibly silky. I can't believe it took me so long to realise. It's been a dry spring, but even so, Herbie is creaking a bit, so he's on a double dose of Cortaflex to see if that helps at all. He's an old boy now. Which is what I always wanted to see.