My God. Jake reminds me of that Monty Python plague scene where the guy being dragged away by the body-collectors protests, "But I’m not dead yet!".
When I woke up, I had a very heavy heart. He was on his side, not moving. I walked into the kitchen, and when I came out he was on his feet, a big doggie grin on his face and wagging his tail. He ate with great enthusiasm, then walked smartly – if unsteadily – to the balcony for a wobbily pee. I even managed to get him down the stairs by myself for a *very* short walk. Hmmm. We’d pretty much decided yesterday that Saturday would be the day. Jake may have other ideas.