My DH came home early from work yesterday, he just couldn't concentrate either. He lay on the floor petting and hugging him and our big boy just sucked it up. Earlier in the day I was laying with him, chanting to him and stroking him. I decided he needed to go back to the vet.
His temperature is normal now and his heartbeat is strong. The doc recommends we just keep on eye on him, he just might need more time to recover. He's still a bit pokey, but as I was browning his extra lean hamburger last night, he came sniffing to see what I was cooking, which is an improvement. And after he came back from outside he waited expectantly by the pantry door for a treat to be handed out.
It's funny, we acted like parents fretting over a sick child. We reported to each other each little thing that he did, how much he peed, his energy level, whether he was resting comfortably. When all you've had is this creature to raise, their well being becomes as important as any other member of the family. And now that's he's 10 years old and slowing down, you're aware that large dogs don't live as long as small ones, you start thinking of their demise and where you're going to sprinkle their ashes. I've imagined a child's arms around his big head, his big tongue licking a sticky face; his large body between us and harm as we went for a stroll in the park; all of us in one of those stupid Christmas card pictures we get every year from our friends.
I remember once when a dog came up from behind me and started bumping me with his muzzle, for whatever reason, and Sampson came running up and PUSHED the dog away from me. He did not attack, or snarl, he just pushed him away. And another time, we were walking in some suburban woods, and a lone dog came strolling towards us. He, once again, just pushed the dog into the tall grass away from me. The dog meant no harm, I'm sure, was just out for a stroll by himself, (people with houses just tend to let the dogs out on their own, apartment dwellers have to walk them). During my many post transfer bed rests, he would snuggle up on the bed with me, his head on my stomach. When I could barely walk because of swollen ovaries, he would wait for me to catch up.
He's asleep at the foot of the bed, he's going to be just fine. Thank you for all your good wishes and suggestions.