Thirteen years and counting…

Sir Winston

Sir Winston

Friend A:  “My dog is 13 and I’m so sad because I know he is nearing the end of his life.”

Friend B:  “Are you kidding me? My dog died when she was only 9! You’re lucky that you’ve had so much more time with your dog.”

It’s all in the perspective. Dogs have short life spans. We know that when we invite them into our families.

My old boy is really showing his age this summer. He doesn’t hear a thing, not even the front door banging shut when I return home.  Jumping into the car to go to the trails for long hikes is a thing of the past. The hot weather exhausts him. He pants a lot. He sleeps deeply. But he loves us as fiercely as ever. His tail wags madly in greeting even when he’s too tired to lift his head off the floor, and he still finds the energy to bark hysterically at squirrels in the yard – there’s hardly anything left of the windowsills which his claws have gouged during these frantic episodes.

I’m grateful for 13 really good years together and hope we can squeeze out a couple more.


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