She whines a lot, lately, actually.
The vet told us a few months ago that it was probably just anxiety. But she has done it ever since she spent a day at the vet (this summer) for tests, all through today, and it’s gotten more insistent in recent weeks.
In the span of less than a year, my Boston went from being a pretty vivacious, excitable-beyond-her-years terrier to a quiet, creaky animal: suspicious of new activity, becoming more distrustful of those we meet on walks — and being annoyed by these walks in the first place — and spending an inordinate amount of time crapping and peeing in our apartment. She has had a hell of a dog year, let me tell you. She turned 11 years old in September.
Sometimes, she has really great days. This fall, she whined minimally and went to the beach with our friends (animal and human) as we vacationed. Eventually, though, her pain and distress seemed to come back. She sleeps through the night, she eats, and she drinks water, more or less. But…
…there’s the whining and the seeming distress. And it’s gotten worse in recent weeks. I don’t know what’s wrong with her. Maybe she’s just old?
The best tack, so far, has been picking her up, and forcing her to lie on her side, as pictured. We’ve been known to sleep like a people before, after all. Sometimes, this manifests in quieter whining, peaceful snoring, or, sometimes, no noise at all. Sometimes, she craps or pees on the floor anyway, regardless of how many times you take her out or encourage her to lay down and chillax. Sometimes (at best), this results in her sleeping quietly next to you, and you waking up wondering how the dog got the same setup you did in the people bed. These are the best days.
She is snoring very (very) loudly next to me at this moment, and I am actually very, very happy to hear it.