Just yesterday, it seems, my child, the dog and I were running around frolicking together in the back yard.
Now, much to my surprise, the dog has grey hair all along her muzzle and eyes. Both she and I walk slowly and with a limp. That former little girl is suddenly a senior driving herself to and from school.
When the dog was young, jumping through hoops as one of our games, Sprinkles was a kitten. She’d get to where she was going by walking and leaping on furniture, tops of doors and curtain rods rather than on the floor, as if the floor were lava into which no paws must sink. Her antics gave my little girl fits of giggles.
Now, Sprinkles spends most of the days in the coat closet, presumably napping. We must remember to always leave the door ajar. She sleeps in the living room at night. The only action we get out of her is in the mornings, when she demands canned cat food. We put off feeding her just to have some interaction with her – a lot of meows, some following around and occasional taps on our ankles.
A few years ago, when I was sitting in a veterinarian’s office, I read one of the posters on the wall. It compared animals’ ages. It was not that stereotyped “A dog year is 7 human years.” Instead, the chart divided animal years by life stages, comparing them to us, and describing how they’d feel.
Much to my shock, I learned that my dog was as “old” as I was. She, too, had sore joints, and got tired earlier than before, and had less energy overall. Well, of course, sure I’ve seen my dog’s slow-down, but it was another thing altogether to really take in that she was now like me.
Now our dog and cat are official senior citizens.
Many years ago, I stopped taking in puppies as pets. I only adopted young, but full grown dogs. They were easier. Once our current dog is no longer with us and it’s choosing time again, I feel like I’d be at the pace of a middle-aged dog but would definitely give an old dog a home.
The parrot is 27 years old. Parrots can live up to 50 years or more. Dogs and cats come and go with their short life spans, but a parrot is a permanent part of life.
The little girl who once played rambunctiously with her pets now is a poised young woman. She pets them and cuddles them instead of tumbles with them, which is the pace they need now anyway.
The teenager is the only sign of youth now in a house that is aging. Worn spots are now showing through the finish on the hardwood floors. The color of the paint is fading. The ceramic stove top now has nicks and dull spots, and the countertop has a stain or two that won’t come out.
One more year, and then the teenager will spread her wings and fly. This is the last year of youth in this house. Then the house will fill more and more with broken things, and grey hairs, and longer naps, and earlier and earlier bedtimes — house, pets and person aging.
Things around home will get quieter and quieter, slower and slower.
It’s the child’s time. She will spread her wings and fly.
Then, when she is settled in her first or second home, she’ll adopt a kitten or puppy, or perhaps one of each.
