As many of you know, this is my girl, Daisy. She is getting quite old now and if she didn't have all this silky golden hair, you'd see all sorts of warts (just like pictures of old witches and hags) and she has trouble on the stairs (and our house is all stairs, practically). She is deaf, which actually helps her a lot, because when she could hear, she would go into these awful panic attacks where she would try to escape from the sound, but on the other hand, it used to be fun when she heard a siren because she would always get this other-worldly expression on her face and start to howl in answer to it. She doesn't do that anymore, because she doesn't hear the sirens. Or the coyotes who sometimes howl together in the evening in the forest behind our house.
She still loves going for a walk, although she can't walk as far as she used to. She loves to sniff things out (especially if there's an old bone under a shrub or a piece of rotten sandwich in a thicket of grass). She loves a good brushing and gobs of hair are always produced, even if you just brushed her fifteen minutes ago! She loves food and when it's dinner time (or breakfast), she still acts like a puppy -- jumping up and wagging both her face and her tail.
She used to be quite nasty with other dogs, but now, in her old age, she looks daggers at them and will sometimes woof threateningly, but she certainly isn't willing to go the whole route and jump on them. Quite a relief for me, her main dog walker.
She gets special food for an old dog and a salmon oil pill in the morning and then mobility pills (which she likes) three times a day. Whenever she can, she'll go out into the back yard and lie in the hottest sun or crawl under the blackberry bushes and dig herself a hole -- she likes the peace and quiet and I think her old bones like the warmth. I remember when my dad was getting old, he had trouble with his circulation and used to wear long underwear in weather that the rest of us put on shorts.
We love her so much and find such comfort in her presence in our house.
I just finished taking care of our neighbour's dog, Lily. Lily is a young dog and very strong and lively. (She is some sort of Lab cross.). She also likes to go on a walk and she is a passionate sniffer and stops every few feet to smell things that I can't even imagine. When she sees another dog, she is very happy and wants to play, but oftentimes, the other dog is intimidated by Lily's size (very large) and energy (very high). Lily loves her family so much and when they go away, she is very sad and sits for hours at the window watching for them to return. She appreciates me taking care of her, but I am not her family and she misses them with her whole doggy heart.
Yesterday, they were supposed to be getting the late ferry, so I thought I should give her a good walk in the evening, so she would be tired and be able to relax while she waited, so we went out and had a long and pleasant walk in the evening. When we turned onto our street, I could see the lights on in her house and the car parked in front. "Lily! They're home!" I said to her. Lily didn't understand and kept sniffing things and lumbering along. But when we got to their steps, she saw them and her heart leaped up and she raced up the stairs and then ran up and down through the whole house, just filled with joy. A happy dog embodies the word "joy". And that's why they can give it to us.
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