Old dogs

Old dogs are wonderful; I've never had so many old dogs at once before. There have been alot of life changes and this last year has seen the most drastic. My dogs are all seniors; even though Luke seems very distant from that designation, he is nine years old. I believe it is the 8th year that makes a canine an official senior. But if you have a giant breed then 8 is an old dog. If you have a small dog then 8 is nothing. My Jack Russell is 13.5 and although this year has brought many changes to her, she can still jump and rip around like a 4 year old.

Quiet; that is probably the biggest change in my daily life. There is a peaceful silence throughout the day. As I wander from room to room trying to locate each dog; doing the regular head count I cannot help but notice the lull. I hit the favorite spots first; where there are sunbeams there will be a Jack Russell. I regularly find Jessie curled up, tongue hanging out soaking up the warmth. She has always loved the sun; being that she is short coated and white. But now more than ever she seems to need it. And I think it must feel pretty good on an old little body.

Once I've located the small one I then search for the dark one. I often overlook Tilley because she can blend in to almost any shadow. I regularly call and call her only to finally realize she is in the same room where I am standing. And at night she virtually disappears into the darkness. Old dogs seek comfort and deservingly so; it is the comfort spots where I can usually find Miss Tilley. She has taken to sleeping on the leather couch in the family room and always with a blanket and pillow.

Looking for Luke is never an issue; where I am Luke is and if he happens to drift off and not hear me leaving a room he comes charging in a panicked mission to find me. Jessie too was a follower but now her sleep pulls her into a deep coma like state, one that with her loss of hearing causes her to miss much of the daily comings and goings. Jessie is loosing her sight and her hearing; although it is her hearing that is worse than her sight and I find my self resorting back to sign language; something I haven't used so much since my Clyde passed.

These are their years; this is their time to be spoiled and pampered. It makes me happy to give them their favorite meals, tuck them in with the fluffiest of blankets while they rest and take our slower than a snail pace walk. Life with old dogs is very very different and although Luke is not old in my mind; we are already starting to see the signs of creeping years. Next year my gang will be 10, 13 and 14................... that's alot of old dogs, my first time ever and I wouldn't miss it for the world.