Friday, June 9, 2017

He's getting old

Our dog, Bela, is 12 now--what's that, 84 in dog years?

He's on some new pain meds that have helped a lot, but his joints are, like my knees, problematic.

He hesitates to go up steps without help. Jumping on the bed is an issue.

I tend to stay downstairs or upstairs longer than I would normally just so he doesn't have to navigate the steep steps in our 1850 house.

Jumping in the car or Bern's truck is tricky--as is jumping out. He slips on our hardwood floors downstairs.

He eats like a champ and sleeps well, but his body just isn't what it used to be and he is coward-ed by things like he's never been.

He's so much a part of our lives--bad, bad dog that he is--that watching him breaks my heart.

Getting old isn't a bed of roses, that's for sure.

Lordy, lordy, Bela, it's so hard to see you like this....


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some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.