When Mr. Cool was a baby, he wondered what kind of grown up beagle he would become.
Would he be a rabbit chaser?
Or a glittery show dog?
Perhaps he'd live the life of a hobo riding the rails.
Mr. Cool never imagined he would become heck on two wheels. But that is exactly what he is.
He wasn't always a dragster. In fact, the years leading up to his hot rod days were spent resting on couches, using people blankets and people laps. He could detect disturbances in air flow when a piece of food dropped and then stretch his neck to catch it. All without raising an eyelid.
Mr. Cool embodied the term "lazy."
He contributed to the welfare of the home, though. Still does. If the doorbell rings or if Vanna turns a letter (which sounds like the doorbell), Mr. Cool springs into action.
"I'm on it!" he hollers and howls like nobody's business. Totally helpful.
A few months ago, Mr. Cool's back legs began walking like he was wearing high heels for the first time.
The vet determined it was a herniated disc. An ossified disc, actually. Then, Mr. Cool began dragging his back legs. He spiraled into having potty accidents and his tail was in a constant state of droop.
He became paralyzed in his back half.
The vet spelled it out. We could get him a wheelchair cart or...well...you know.
So, we got him a wheelchair cart and he's been greased lightnin' ever since. He's run over so many people toes he's stopped counting. Outside I have to chase after him. He's just a blur.
Perhaps there will be a day when he will walk again. He seems to be working things out. His tail wags now, and he doesn't have any more potty accidents. His back legs are going through the motions of walking and seem to be getting stronger.
I have hope.
And wouldn't you know? Just when he was thinking of installing a drag parachute.
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