Her yellow fur is still soft and shiny. Her brown eyes are as beautiful as ever, but Goldie, my Labrador retriever is aging.
She is no longer able to chase and roughhouse with the pug as she once did. Nor can she can swim vigorously, and sometimes she gets confused.
Goldie has lived with my husband and me for seven years and is the sweetest dog imaginable, always wanting to please, careful never to offend. We were her fourth owners and on the day we brought her home, she entered our front door and never looked back. This was her home. We were her people.
I shouldn’t be surprised that Goldie is getting old— after all, she is 12 years old and time waits for no man or—or dog, for that matter.
She is the fifth dog with whom I’ve gone through this process, so I know what to do.
I’ve turned my house into an assisted living apartment for senior dogs.
Should you come to visit me, you won’t have to worry about slipping on the hardwood floors. Noticing Goldie slip and frequently fall as she rounded corners or made sudden turns, Dick and I came up with an idea.
We placed area rugs throughout the house. Though mismatched in color and size, they make it much easier for a dog with weakened hind legs to maneuver.
We’ve placed an old footstool at the foot of the bed to help her get up and moved a dresser against the bed to keep her from falling off.
I don’t mind any of these so-called inconveniences. Dogs have taught me a lot about life and owe me nothing. They accept fate with patience and dignity and live in the moment, one of the hardest things for us humans to do, and recently Goldie gave me another lesson.
Returning from a walk, I was ready to go into the house and start the daily routine of feeding dogs and fixing dinner. But Goldie had a different idea. Instead of running to the front door, she led Magoo full speed over the hardened snowdrifts and down to the lake. It was a beautiful day with bright sun and warm breezes, and I guess she couldn’t resist the impulse to have fun.
But I panicked, certain that Goldie was going to break through the snow crust and get stuck deep in a snow drift, so calling to the dogs, I ran after them.
It was harder going for me. Several times my feet broke through the snow crust and I wallowed as they ran out of sight. But I need not have worried. When I finally reached the lake, somewhat flustered, there they were— running together for the sheer joy of running, Goldie with the grace and strength of her youth.
I looked up at the blue sky. The entire white surface of Devil Track Lake stretched before me, shimmery and beautiful.
As the dogs scampered up to me, I took a deep breath, forgot about the chores waiting for me in the house, and along with the dogs, took time to simply enjoy the moment.
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