He was avoiding the others in the household.
I don't know why.
He seemed to want to be alone. He'd hide in the laundry room and at the foot of the stairwell.
Wolf, my 18-month-old Bichon Frise, concerned his twin brother, Woof, and me, of course.
Want to get in the care, I'd ask, and, Wolf would amble up the stairwell.
He wasn't eating much other than the little piece of my apple I cut for him.
One just doesn't know when someone gets sick.
I sure don't want him to miss the start of the Christian penitential season, called Lent.
It's a 40-day kind of desert experience of prayer, fasting and alms giving as one unites
with the suffering, dyring and glorious rising of Jesus the Christ at Easter.
We'll have to wait and see if he's well enough to get ashes. After all, the remains of burnt palm tree branches remind us of our limited life here on earth.
They remind us of heaven, unless one has other plans.
I don't know.
Woof doesn't understand either.
Wolf may need the holy oils.
I am concerned nevertheless and a bit worried to say the least.
Keep us all in prayer, will you please?
When a family member is sick it is serious, as you know, I'm sure.