Like watching paint dry

Dear Pooka-lovers,

Just a quick update on a crisp Friday morning. Pooka is doing very, very well. She still walks like a drunk -- somewhere between a swagger and a stagger -- but in all other respects, is very much herself.

She's back to peeing almost normally, with just one squat per walk, for the most part. And she's got a manic amount of pent-up energy by the time I'm home from work. Of course, with the stock market plummeting and the product cycle kicking up at the companies I cover, I do not have a manic amount of pent-up energy by the time I'm home from work, and I can sense the frustration on her part. The other night she went over to her toy box and pulled out every last thing, tossed it around for a moment and looked at me. "How about this one? Can we play with this one? How about now? Can we please go back to the life I used to lead, where you'd chase me in endless circles around the couch? Please?"

And two nights ago, I gave her a Bully Stick. Now, Pooka chews through chew-treats faster than any dog I've seen. I have brought home things the nice but naive doggie boutique workers say should last for "hours" and watched her devour them in just a fraction of that. An eight-inch bully stick lasts her * maybe * 10 minutes. But the other night, she did not gnaw or chew at it, she bit off whole pieces like it was a Slim Jim. Manic, I tell you.

I sigh. Poor kid. I try to explain to her that as soon as her bones have mended, it will be back to business as usual, with lots of running around like a crazy-dog. But for now, and at least the next 3 1/2 weeks, we have to pretty much sit still and wait for things to happen on the molecular level. Pooka sighs a lot, too.