You told the story of your dog, I'll tell you the story of mine. Maybe you'll like it.
In the 90s, when few people had jobs, there was nothing left of the economy and the law, everyone try to find money by any way as they could. My grandmother lived in an old small hut (izba) with garden around it. My family grew food in the garden so that there would be food. And my grandmother rented the house to a family of Vietnamese who came to sell junk in our market. We came and work in the garden, and in the evening we returned to the apartment we lived.
They had two dogs. And one day when we came, one dog was missing. It turned out they ate it. We bought a second dog from them. The Vietnamese left six months later. So Chipka appeared in my life - the child of vicious love between a Pekingese and a mongrel. She was very smart and perfectly understood and reacted accordingly when we talked to her. Sometimes, when my grandmother was ill and lived with us, I went to her two or three times a day to feed her and stayed with her to play for an hour, because she was really very sad and asked for communication. Together with our cat, they set traps for those cats who came to our plot - Chipka slowly stepped on the uninvited guest, and Matvey the cat quietly walked through the bushes and attacked from behind.
Thank you for sharing your story. I also have problems with my back, several hernias (I had to work with heavy equipment in attics), I will be more careful. Now I have to do sports, do yoga and stretching, walk 20 km on weekends to work normally, sitting for 8-10 hours. I'm sure the Devils will please us more than once.