puppy update: tear-your-heart-right-out edition

Cecil has two more weeks of forced serenity (an elusive goal, to be sure) before he can start returning to his normal level of activity. Yesterday and today he had the last two of his total three treatments. Each one is a shot of poison, essentially, injected into the muscles next to his spine, which kills the heartworms in his system and makes him hurt a whole lot for a few days.

The vet also prescribed a sedative for him, because if a puppy's going to be in pain, at least he can be a zonked-out puppy in pain. On the one hand, yes, of course it's helpful to know that something is taking the edge off for him... but on the other hand, seeing his poor little bloodshot eyes and watching him hobble across the kitchen floor, stopping to get his balance every few inches, is simply heartbreaking.

Here he is in the morning, before the evil humans made him all hurty and hopped up on meds:

Perked-up ears. Bright eyes. Happy puppy.

And here he is several hours after the vet left (yes, our vet is a housecall vet, which is one of the many reasons she's awesome):

Definitely not a happy puppy.

For now he's sleeping in his crate. I opened a can of artichokes a little while ago and he didn't make any attempt at bouncing over to investigate whether there might be food involved for him, which -- let me assure you -- is an indisputable sign that he's out like a light. Tomorrow morning, I know he'll be back to his energetic self and we'll get frustrated trying to keep him as callllm as he needs be, but for now it's tough to keep that in mind.

I do know this: if he lives to a ripe old age, he's going to be SO SPOILED at the end of his life. I have very little difficulty being strict and expecting good behavior from Adorable Pup, but ooof, I seem to be powerless in the face of Feeble Pup.