As you can imagine it's not easy for Will to get around right now.
Last night I carried him to his dog bed, which is about five feet away from our bed. I covered him with a blanket and, on a whim, before going to bed myself I decided to bring him the shirt I hiked in on Friday so he'd have my scent with him.
This is the sight I woke up to. Little Will had pulled his twisted body from his bed, somehow dragged my shirt with him, and slept on it right next to our bed so he could be closer to us.
It's the simplest, purest acts that touch the human heart and I was moved to see the way he was sleeping.
I had to smile when I thought about something Parkie Jones, a therapist and a friend from Newburyport, once said to me. "Don't pay attention to what someone says, pay attention to what they do." Actions do speak louder than words. And Will's actions spoke beautifully last night.
Physically, nothing has changed. I carried him outside this morning to go to the bathroom and he went, but I had to hold him up so he could go. Inside he's tried to stand a few times but has toppled over. We'll continue to watch him. It's still early in the game.
Will is old. And he's not feeling well. More importantly, Will is home.