There’s something about an old dog that brings out the best in people.
On our walks, I step back and watch as folks interact sweetly with Baxter, our beautiful Australian Shepherd who’s turning 15 in January.
I see them, I see myself, I see Bud give our best to this loving creature.
According to recent tables calculating dog years into human years based on the dog’s size, Baxter is on the brink of turning ninety-three on January 30th. .... a birth date he shares with Winston Churchill.
He no longer runs to greet us at the door when we return home. He doesn’t jump up to be with us on the couch, or onto my lap, as he did in his younger years. Instead, we come home and wander through the house to find him. He doesn’t hear us and so we wake him from his deep sleep. We lay a blanket on the floor for him, since he doesn’t like the unsteady feeling of walking on his old bed. We move furniture so he doesn’t get stuck in tight places. Our house looks different.
We are all different.
But, at almost ninety-three, he is up and aware, whenever our young corgi/cairn terrier barks a herding signal, or anytime he sees the leashes come out.
His walking pace is s-l-o-w. He stops to investigate plants, recent dog markings, and anything else that catches his imagination. He smiles as he tries to catch up with the young dog. He shows relief when Bud turns to bring him home after his half mile, and the young Louie and I continue on for a longer walk.
His walking pace is s-l-o-w. He stops to investigate plants, recent dog markings, and anything else that catches his imagination. He smiles as he tries to catch up with the young dog. He shows relief when Bud turns to bring him home after his half mile, and the young Louie and I continue on for a longer walk.
He’s still the same extrovert. He wants to be with us, a part of the party, a part of life.
He lets us know what he wants, what he needs.
We’ve been through this before. Our first amazing Australian Shepherd, Fundy, Baxter’s constant companion for nearly twelve years, died two and half years ago at 12 1/2.
My grief and mourning was hard. Baxter’s grief was deep.
It will happen again.
Till then, we learn from this majestic creature. I want to be like him when I’m 93.
I love him dearly and thank him for all he teaches me.
The grief of losing dogs is overwhelming.
The joy of having them is a hundred times greater.
3 comments:
beautiful in so many ways! sal
Oh, this post strikes me in the heart. Beautiful.
And hey! I'm just letting you know that I've passed on a blog award to you as a thank you for providing me and all your other readers (there should be more!)with top notch blogging. Peace!
I am so sorry for your loss.
Though, glad you both had a wonderful time connecting..
Post a Comment