Still a Good Dog

We've had Gracie for 13 years now - that's a little more than half the time Kelly and I have been together.  In all those years, she's never been anything but a wonderful companion, and loyal friend. She is, quite frankly, a very good dog.

But like us all, she's growing older. According to the pets page of WebMD, at around 14 1/2, Gracie is about 90-years old in human terms. And her age shows. Her snout is graying. She sleeps most of the day - usually in whichever room she can find me. Her once epic twice daily walks have become short jaunts 2 or 3-times a week: all her arthritis-riddled joints will allow.

But worst of all, a dog who immediately understood what the doggy door was for from the very first time she saw it, isn't always making it out in time.  And although we try to open the human door for her throughout the day, and have encouraged her to make use of the snow-covered deck rather than try to traverse the stairs leading to the back yard, it remains an imperfect system.

Today is an example of the combined imperfection and her advancing age. While "supervising" me as I worked, Gracie struggled to rise to her feet. I assumed that she simply wanted to reposition herself on the floor. Instead, she looked at the door, and unfortunately had a BM.

In a brave attempt to redeem herself, she headed toward the doggy door, but it was a moot point. Even though I quietly told her that it was OK, she still skulked into our bedroom, unworthy to remain in my office. It seemed almost as if she was punishing herself.

Sooner than later, it's going to be time to say good bye to our sweet girl. In the time we have left, I'm going to consistently remind her that she's still a good dog.