I have an old dog.
When did she become old? Maybe it started with the decline in her manners. Doesn’t she see me standing here as she pulls something out of the trash?! Maybe, but it doesn’t matter because she knows I won’t enforce the rules and she can’t hear me anyway. I move the trash.
Or maybe it was when I found myself giving her plenty of time to come when called, accepting that she would get to me when she was ready, without making a mental note to myself to “work on that.”
My kids ask me why she’s so much trouble; taking food off their plates, leaking urine through the house, and sleeping where she wishes, no matter how inconvenient her resting place might be to the rest of the family.
Because she’s old.
She does not want to learn new skills or practice her old ones. She wants to go for her walk; a familiar route where she can sniff the same smells each day, often rooted to one spot for minutes at a time, refusing to budge if I try to hurry her along. So I walk at her speed, stop when she stops, allow her to explore what she wants, and accept that much of her sensory world is lost to me.
Returning after an absence is no longer a significant event. At best, she gently approaches to welcome me home. More often, she sleeps through my arrival, oblivious just a few feet from the door.
After fourteen years I am no longer the focus of her world. I’m on the periphery of her radar and I cater to her with no expectations in return. The small daily reminders of my presence; my sound as I move through the house or my sight as I pass nearby; those things are diminished. Instead, she focuses on what she can register easily; vibrations around her. Smells on the ground. A fresh bone to chew. A toy in the pool.
I accept my more peripheral role as the natural order of things. Instead of looking to me for work or play, she looks to me for access. Access to the pool. Access to the trail where she walks. Access to extra snacks. Access to comfort. If she needs something, she knows I’m available to get it for her.
I’m not sad that our roles have changed but I am sad that our time may be short. We have a rich history, shared from the day of her birth through years of training and competition, spanning the familiar to the new, and with more yet to see.
I read about friends’ dogs that live to sixteen, seventeen or more, and I wonder if that good fortune might be for me. I’d like to think so.
Now I watch her fold into herself, absorbed in whatever is right in front of her at any given moment, single tracking through what will be the final days, weeks or years of her life.
I’m grateful that I have an old dog because I know that one day I won’t have her at all.
This made me cry. I have an old dog now too… and our walks (when she agrees to go with me) sound like the ones you take with your elderly companion. Thank you- you made me not feel guilty for ‘spoiling’ her.
Spot on Denise. So many things change in the relationship with our old ones, but I would not give up a single minute with mine either.
Gulp!
Very well written, Denise. This says it all.
Thanks for that…
I too have an old dog – just like the old dogs before him, he barks to go out, he barks to come in, he barks because he can. He is not to be ignored, still wants to go on every trip, even if getting in the truck is hard for him. He still wants to trial, so we do things he can, nosework, cdsp, novice barn hunt. He’s the fun police, as were the old dogs before him, but someone has to keep the young un’s in line…. I don’t know exactly when “baby Merlin” became the old dog… but he’s doing it well.
I read this with tears in my eyes – my Joe is 14. He is not an old 14, but a profoundly deaf one. He usually hears if i clap my hands. He has been my teammate for fourteen years – and we always, always talked. I think he misses hearing my conversations – and they were/are conversations. Given his family background, i do expect to share my life with him for several more years, and I even treasure his deaf dog bark (who knew I’d live with a seal??) I’m blessed, and I know it! He gave me so much – not just effort in competition, where he excelled, but in joy and love, and all those things our dogs offer us. Now it is my turn to be there for him, and hide my tears because they upset him.
Oh, man! Denise…this is so beautiful. I can so relate to you, having 2 “13- soon to be 14-” year-olds here. Bella has liver cancer (Vet thinks slow-growing) and Lena had a huge benign tumor removed a year ago that could have been hemangiosarcoma, but was not. I enjoy every happy day with them…Lena still loves to check her mouse holes in the field and plays “around the clock” for toys instead of gloves, and Bella loves to play “you can’t catch me” but still likes to waddle through the weave poles at her old lady pace and do her “high five” trick. We cherish every day with our senior girls and love them so much.
So true, love my mature wheatie girl…you captured it beautifully…❤️
A beautiful tribute to old age. I take care of “old” humans and your words resonate with me.
i was born into a household with an old dog who died before I was out of diapers.. Then when I got married and my second dog was old. Then when my son went to college the third dog was old. soon after my fourth dog was old and now I have three dogs ages 7,5&4 as I did not want to ever be without dogs and realized I was not going to live long enough to know all the dogs that I wanted know!!!
Thank you, My old girl is 15 1/2 years old. Sometimes she looks and acts her age and sometimes she is silly, bouncy, goofy. I cherish every day she is with us … no matter what.
Beautiful post and although I am in this right now with my 19 1/2 yr. old, she still walks every day & like you said, takes her time, sniffs the ground & we do it on her terms. They are very special!
Recently started giving my old guy Hemp oil he is much more alert and eating better.
Thanks for this post, you have a beautiful way with words, my girl lasted till her 15th birthday. She enriched my life.
I have a geriatric dog…
He barely sees, only hears my sharp whistle, and often can’t get up without our help.
He spends his days lying down by the kitchen/front door, snoozing soundly or looking around at nothing/no-one in particular.
We part walk/lift/drag him to the elevator to pee (he poops in the house, mostly without getting up), and he walks a bit but then stops halfway into it, as if he doesn’t realize he’s not all the way in the elevator yet.
We make it to the grass and wander around for a bit, I try to prevent him from bumping into things (not 100% successfully), then his legs give out, or he tries to turn too fast, and down he goes…
And we start our “long” trek back to the apartment.
So…
Enjoy your old dog (as I know you are). Every day is a gift – even when the days are hard, even when you can really see the end, but have no idea when it’s coming (or if you’re waiting too long…).
If he makes it that far, which he probably won’t, my Bruin will be 17 in November. It’s an incredible accomplishment for so many reasons -breed, health history, etc.
Every day he’s still here is amazing! There will be a very big hole to fill when he’s gone.
As there will be when Raika does… ❤
I just lost my old dog. Treasure every slow walk, every bush sniffed for what seems like forever… All too soon, you will miss that time together.
Thanks for this. Same going on here. One 15+ and the other 12 1/2. Always good to remember we are not in this alone. So many go through it time after time because our pups are a part of our family. What an honor it is to take care of our old dogs.
I love my old dogs. I don’t, in any way shape or form, that they are old, but I enjoy that part of their life as much as the other stages – actually, I’d rather care for an old dog than a young one. I guess that is because I know them better. Even though I am saddened by the fact that they are no longer my vibrant, enthusastic working dog, I love them as senile dogs who do the silliest things. As I was reading your blog, it made me wonder, “What is the day that we no longer insist on the crisp recall?” Does it happen in a day or does the time just extend in miniscule moments that we never notice? What is the day that I laugh at the silly behaviors they do because they can’t hear me anymore? It is hard to know that those changes mean we will lose them sooner than is bearable, but I like being able to enjoy them at this stage of their life. It is another part of who they are and being able to laugh and smile at/with them makes those last days some of the best days for me.
Oh, Denise. So eloquently written. Absolutely spot-on. I just saw, this morning, another disregard for my request. The transition from that anything-to-please to this is quite amazing. I think we should take a lesson in aging from our dear friends. They do most things with more grace than their ‘people’.
Powerful and right on.
My 16+ silver queen no longer goes for walks and is slow as molasses to do her business. We don’t mind getting up at 5:37 am each day as she whines to be fed. Julia Child still smiles and wags. She still loves her carrot bits and keeps the little guy in line. Her toothless kisses are precious.
A beautiful tribute. <3
Last year I had three old dogs. Now I have just one. I know intimately the stages of aging and eventually crossing the rainbow bridge. It almost makes it harder to watch the one still here, 15 years old, fading away. She is better in the morning and will sometimes rollick her way through the house, stepping on the smaller Cocker Spaniels on her way out to her favorite spot to potty on Dad’s new lawn. And the she falls down as she pees and looks over her shoulder for help standing up. Her legs that used to carry her around the conformation ring or out running in the meadow so beautifully have betrayed her. Her ears that would prick at the sound of my husband’s car driving down the street, well they don’t hear much of anything now. But she can still draw blood if you hold out a Milkbone. I love this girl. She came to us at age 4 and put her sweet life in our hands. I will miss her when she’s gone but I know she will be out there somewhere with the two that went before her: Stella, the Gordon Setter, Simon the Norwich Terrier and soon Barbie the Labrador together again.
My old dog will be 18 this fall. She was a rescue Parson. I got her when the people that adopted her (3rd home) didn’t want her anymore. She was a biter, not housebroken and had a collapsed trachea. She is a mean little thing, but I love her. I used to say when I worked at the vets “how can somebody love such a mean dog” Karma is a bitch. LOL Triscuit, CDX, RE. My bad little girl.
So beautifully said, Denise. The old ones teach us right up until the end, don’t they? And even beyond. Wishing you and Raika lots more happy trails together.
Oh…. I was ok reading this until that last sentence. Now I really want to cuddle my almost 13yo, but I won’t because he is fast asleep. So I sit here being so very grateful for his snoring….
I can easily relate your observations to canines, but the essence of these caused me to reflect and re-evaluate my relationship with an elderly human. I wonder why it is somewhat easier to understand in canine terms.
so beautiful and so sad. Thanks. I know this love and pain.