Shadow, our beacon of the strength of a dog's resolve to live had a rough couple days of intestinal issues and had to get some medication for that. The stress of a new diet, or food at all for that matter, and finally treating his whipworm infection had left this old man in a dizzying cycle of loose bowel movements and it took its toll quickly. Even though he had been drinking water and eating, he was weak. Eric and I had taken turns staying up with him at night to let him out for two nights, one of us sleeping out on the couch. Then, in the morning, when Eric was calling him in from outside, Shadow was slow to show recognition and had that faraway look in his eyes. He wobbled a little getting moving as he made his way up on the porch. Eric and I were both immediately worried, knowing the diarrhea had to be rough for him, and we got him some medication for his bowels. Two days into that and Shadow has regained his original fervor. He wants to live. He follows us both like a little puppy that we have owned his whole life. He lets the other dogs know when they push on his weak frame or land on him from off the couch, with a resounding, loud guttural grumpy outburst. He has a mid day excited outburst as the sun streams in through the picture window. His eyes get wide, his smile open, his tongue even hanging out to the side. When he gets like this, he just wants to share it with you. He approaches us again and again where we sit on the couch and rubs along the length of the arm slowly like a cat, even arching his back and tapping his back feet to the rhythm of a gentle rub on his almost bald hind end. He is excited for every meal, every treat, every opportunity to follow his new people around in this new den of life and love. He is our Shadow.