—From Someone Who’s Been There
When I first noticed Gus, my beloved white Boxer, dragging his back foot, I teased him about being lazy. At age 10, Gus was finally mellowing out after a decade of careening through life like a rodeo bull. Soon, though, he was dragging that foot on our walks, and because we live in an urban (read: paved) area, all that friction began to wear down his nails and scrape the skin from his knuckles.
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