Toby seemed better yesterday morning and ate breakfast. He was subdued, but you’re like that when you’re getting over something, aren’t you?
On his walk he only wanted to sit, not even watch Molly run around. He was sick again last night; and this morning.
To make things worse, I accidentally pushed him off our (quite high) bed this morning. He often jumps up around five and we never kick him off in our sleep; it’s like a subconscious thing. I always give him a love when I get up and I reached out to stroke him as usual but he must have been right on the edge because I knocked him right off. He squealed and even wet himself a little. I feel dreadful.
Molly is cuddled up to him, like she knows something’s wrong; the strange thing is, he’s letting her. He’s going to the vet at ten-thirty. I’m scared, if I’m honest.