Old dog, new tricks

Jack is 12, which in dog years means he is 84, so no wonder his hips and back have been bothering him.

But an occasional limp turned into an inability to use his back legs three weeks ago, and after a depressing

visit to the vet, I sat on the floor with him thinking about saying goodbye to the guy I spend more time with

than any other man in my life.

If Jack can't walk, that means he can't play, he can't wander the neighborhood three times a day on his beloved walks, finding just the right bush to do his business, and sniffing out bits of old sandwiches in the bushes, as he seems to do with great gusto. He can't climb the steps to the foot of the bed where he has slept (yes, with us) his whole life. He can barely get to the kitchen to get a drink of water.

But a desperate visit to the orthopedic surgeon (yes, dog specialists abound if you can foot the bill) and an Xray later, we had been given a bit of hope. Jack went on steroids for his degenerative disk disease. He was put on a regimen of rest and a few mild "exercises." The drugs started to work. Although he still staggers like a drunkard, at least he can get around. We've covered our hardwood floors with bath mats, old bits of carpet, yoga mats, you name it, to help prevent his legs from slipping out from under him.

Jack seems more embarrassed than hurt when he does fall. He'll slip, fall flat on his belly with back legs splayed, then look up at me and wag his tail a tiny bit as if to apologize.

Last week in one of my Internet searches on doggie dysplasia, I found Scout's House. This tiny storefront clinic in Menlo Park offers physical therapy and rehab for dogs. It costs a leg and a tail, but we thought we'd at least see if they could teach us some things we could do at home.

On our first visit, I had to carry Jack from the car (now I need PT!). I was hemorrhaging money -- a $50 harness with a handle on top allows us to help when his legs go out. NeoPaws booties ($35) to put on his back feet help with slipping and protect his poor ripped up toenails. The cost of the session itself is $83-- electrical stimulation, mobility exercises, an underwater treadmill to practice walking without resistance. On our next visit, Jack will be taught to wear little bells on his ankles to remind him not to drag his feet. He is now one exhausted labrador retriever.

Are we crazy to be spending money we don't have on an old dog who may have outlived his body? Maybe. Some of our friends think so. But Jack has stuck by me in hard times, always there when I needed company, or a shoulder to cry on, or a friend to walk with. So I'm not giving up on him yet.

If he stops enjoying his treats, then I'll worry. But for now, we are in this together...