Far enough

Pushka was very unwell last night, we left the door open for her and she spent most of the night pacing the garden, restless, we think in pain. It's a vicious circle, if she's unwell she doesn't eat, if she doesn't eat she doesn't get her meds and so it goes.

This morning I conned her with a sausage full of medicine and she snoozed peacefully all day, wonderful to simply sit and watch her for a while. Then this evening she followed me down the garden and seemed to be saying she wanted to try a walk - how I wish we'd had the hole-in-the-wall when she was in her prime!
There's no livestock in the meadow and we know the farmer, so no lead, just a gentle wander. She's an amiable companion now in her dotage, but even the slight incline, a climb of perhaps 5° is enough to exhaust her, when she'd had enough she simply sat and stared at me. As ever she won the battle of wills.
Moments.