“Come Buddy,” I motioned my arm for my sister’s deaf twelve year-old cocker spaniel to approach me as I sat on the kitchen floor, toothbrush in hand. He patiently sat in front of me while I inserted his new toothbrush into his mouth. He had just moved in with me since my sister didn’t think he would survive the four-day drive to California where she was re-locating.
I turned my head away as he exhaled a rotten egg smell. His yellow and black teeth suffered from years of neglect. I only hoped I could reduce his bad breath by starting a daily brushing routine. His foul breath prevented me from giving him many hugs and pets he needed at this time of transition so late in his life.
