A Dog's Life

My dog is getting old. It wasn't that long ago that he was a six-week old pup and we were taking him home. Of course, that was 11 years ago. However, in 11 years he has become an old man...uhm...dog.

My dog still shows bursts of energy sometimes but for the most part he likes to sit and lie down a lot more now. He finds it harder to jump onto our bed...joints, you know...and so let's us pick him up now. In the past, he didn't like to be picked up; he liked to feel his four paws were firmly on the ground. Now he doesn't seem to mind because he finds his paws aren't able to leave the ground of their own volition as easily.

Things that used to excite him, for example, "Do you want to go in the car?", now generate an iffy response. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. He sometimes seems a little confused, though he is as loving and affectionate as he has always been. He is still very happy to see me when I come home, still sad to see me leave, still likes to celebrate with me when there's a reason to celebrate.

My dog is getting old, yes, but I hope he still has years to go before his tail stops wagging altogether. However, even now it can be said that no dog has been so loved, no dog has received as much attention, no dog has been loved as well and has in turn filled everyone he has met with so much happiness and joy. My dog is my friend, the best friend I've ever had, and I hope he and I will enjoy more years to come. I wish he could live as long as I but I know that's selfish of me. He has had a good life thus far and when he's ready to go, he'll have led a good life. I can only hope I can say the same about me.