My Best Friend Ages Faster Than I Do

ImageThis post is part of a Senior Pets Awareness blog hop hosted by BlogPaws.  To check out other bloggers’ posts about senior pets, click here.

Desi is an old dog. About 15 years old, give or take. She is turning grey. Her eyes have cataracts. Her ears betray her. Her hips get stiff and sore. Her teeth don’t allow for her to eat very hard food anymore.

We almost had to put her to sleep a few years ago. Ever since then, we’ve been painfully aware of her age, and what it means. She will not be with us for another 15 years. Probably not even another 5. And there are little moments every single day that remind me of that fact. When unwelcome thoughts creep into my head, and whisper we’re lucky she’s alive today.

So what is it like? It only takes glimpses of my day to see what I’m talking about…

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I want to pull some aluminum foil out of the cabinet so I can make cookies, but Desi is napping on the rug, blocking the door. I decide I’d rather wash the cookie sheet than ask her to move.

I walk into the bonus room and wait for her to follow. But she won’t. Not until I turn on the light. Because as much as she wants to be right next to us, she just can’t see in the dark.

I realize I haven’t seen her in a few hours so I call her name. I whistle and clap. But there is no response. So I grow more frantic. I sprint from room to room, trying to recruit Lana to help me look. And after a near heart attack, I find her asleep somewhere completely random. She lifts her head with a groan and blinks at me, weary eyed, as though asking what’s wrong with me. With a sigh, I lean over and give her a kiss on the head and then leave her to her nap, vowing to teach Lana how to ‘find her sister’.

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I am on the floor petting both dogs, and I feel a new lump in Desi’s side. They’re calcium deposits, according to the veterinarian. “Nothing to worry about.” But they still make us think of cancer.

She jumps out of the back of the car before we can stop her, and we have to watch her limping around for a couple of days. There is a voice in our minds that asks how we will know when life is more painful than death for her. But soon she feels fine again, and has forgotten she ever had trouble standing.

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Lana is zooming past, chasing a ball. As she flies past Desi, the only thing the old girl can do is close her eyes and hope the black and white blur misses her. She does, but we are more careful to throw the ball in the opposite direction, just to be safe.

We take the girls to the vet. I worry Lana will poop on the floor and shy away from the doctor, even though he is a perfectly nice man. We worry Desi will receive bad news. A deadline. For now, we leave with none of our fears realized. But we know that won’t last forever.

Desi requires daily medication for a tumor growing on her eye. She takes it like a trooper, always with a treat right after. For now, it is nothing too expensive. Hers may actually cost less than Lana’s. But it wasn’t always like that, and sooner or later it will change again.

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Desi used to be a fairly independent dog, but these days we find ourselves tripping over her. Apologizing even though she was the one in the way, because we are so afraid to hurt her. We shudder when Lana crashes into her and doesn’t have the same courtesy, but she’s just a dog. It doesn’t even occur to her that her sister is fragile.

Desi used to be entirely food motivated. She learned tricks I’m convinced some other dogs never could have grasped, partially because of the promise of treats. Yet there have been times when we’ve had to sit down next to her bowl and feed her by hand. She may not be hungry, but at her age, the nutrition and the energy from the food are more necessary than ever. We don’t mind the smell of dog food that lingers on our hands the rest of the day, because what mattered was getting food in her belly.

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Despite the extra time and the extra worry, she is worth having. She depends on us, and she knows it. She is more grateful than ever to have us around. She has grown wise. True, she may sometimes act like a grumpy old lady, but if anything, it’s comical to watch a dog pitch a fit.

Senior dogs are hard work. Owning an elderly dog is a unique experience. It is bittersweet to love a dog so much but to know any day may be their last. You want to comfort them, but they aren’t scared.

They face their old age as they faced everything else – with a wagging tail.

13 thoughts on “My Best Friend Ages Faster Than I Do

  1. I understand. I mourned Max for a long time before he died and after I realized that those months, when he was nearing the end were the months I learned the most about him and myself. Old dogs, are the best dogs. The love is just so pure. Thanks for reminding me of that.

    • It feels odd to mourn them before they die, but I guess that’s exactly what it is! Desi’s the first old dog we’ve ever owned, and I agree: seniors are fantastic. Thanks for reading and commenting. =)

  2. Pingback: Is Your Dog Fat? | Dream Big, Bark Loudly

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