It has been more than a week since Nice (the dog) has been resting on his pile of blankets where he has daily been pampered with tasty treats and affection. The veterinarian prescribed a medication for him that has kept him mellow and sleepy. Yesterday he figured it out and when I picked up the pill bottle he walked away as if I was about to pour water on his back ( he does not like water poured on him). He is no dummy and when it was time for his pill in the evening, when I stuffed a tasty treat with one, he knew it, but swallowed the pill anyway. When I take him for his "necessity" walks he looks up the road longingly and pulls hard. He grabs the leash and wrestles with me to play. He seems to be getting better but still favors his hind leg. It is obvious to me he is not miraculously healing. He does love the attention from his new flock of women he shepherds over, and his endless bucket of food. When I sit outside with him though, he stands in front of me wagging his tail, mumbles (in dog whisper) and almost bounces on his front feet telling me it is time to go. I do my best to ignore his pleas. I also long for the open road. When we landed here we were offered more help than I had imagined. I need to accept and learn from it, like I do a strong wind gust that leads me where I need to go. I am learning to catch hold.