I massage the foot. I ice the foot. I stretch the foot. I coddle the foot. I elevate the foot. I am sick of this foot. My life revolves around this foot. It's like it's alien that is somehow attached to my body and I have to treat it like kid gloves or the planet will die. I'm a hostage to my foot.
Actually, the foot is getting better. I was able to go to agility practice and not spend the following day incapacitated.
Shane and Woody recovered from their sick day. Woody's nausea shot cleared up whatever was wrong with him and Shane's Flagyl fixed his ailment. The next day, $300 poorer, both were back to their usual selves bugging the bejesus out of me. Good news though. Woody's liver enzymes were lower than before so we are going to get his teeth cleaned next week. Bad news. Shane's gained another pound. I'm counting his calories and am not sure where he's getting too much, but will cut back anyway. Will also try upping the exercise this week.
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