Suddenly, I feel I am running a house for elderly critters. Varmints who are getting up there in years. Reaching their senior moments. Getting all geriatric on me. Demanding the early-bird buffet.
I’m not sure what to make of it all.
Our dog, Lily, must be about 10 years old. She’s starting to show gray in her muzzle. She doesn’t act old, or seem her age. But there are little hints that it’s coming. That she isn’t the young pup she used to be.
The cat, Sunburst, is a reformed stray who is pretty ancient. We don’t know his exact age, but it must be up there. When we asked the vet, they offered to carbon date his one good tooth. That means they know he’s pretty old. Our best guess is he comes from the Paleolithic era. But he seems to be managing just fine, old fella’ that he is. He tells too many stories about the Civil War, but other than that – and a wobbly walk like he’s been drinking rum – he isn’t any worse for the wear.
And one of our chickens, Ruby, is 10 years old. She’s slowed a bit, doesn’t lay much in the egg department anymore, and her years make her look a little more stately and refined than the average hen. This is a nice way of saying “old and grumpy.”
They’re all getting up there, and I’m not sure what to make of it all.
There are more reminders than usual these days. Slowing down. Gray hairs. Bumps and lumps. Age seems to creep up on you all at once. And it can be hard to come to terms with. The idea that we might have lived more years than we have left is a realization that’s never easy with pets.
Little things carry greater weight. Like when the vet suggested Lily get a “senior dog” workup.
“Senior” dog!?! I didn’t like the sound of that.
I also didn’t like the sound of having to collect a urine sample, which we wouldn’t have had to if some irresponsible owner hadn’t let her out the morning of her checkup. So, the vet sent her home with a kit that included a specimen container, a pipette and a little plastic tray. The tray we were supposed to covertly sneak beneath our dog first thing in the morning in order to collect said “specimen.”
There are so many things wrong with that one simple sentence. And so many ways an expedition such as this could go bad. All of them would end with me recoiling in horror and screaming, “THE OLD GIRL PEED ON ME!!!!”
Is this the future? More of what to expect?
My wife and I took her out on the leash one morning. We must have been a sight for the neighbors as we walked her out by the street, crowding her as she cautiously sniffed and tried to figure out our odd behavior. It was pitch black, and my wife was carrying a flashlight. I carried the little plastic tray and tip-toed behind her, crouching and ready to strike.
“Just freakin’ pee, will you!” I demanded.
The dog was having none of it. I mean, who would? No one can perform under that kind of pressure. And she was suspicious of the whole setup. A guy trying to jam a plastic tray between your legs is not exactly conducive to an early-morning tinkle.
At some point she squatted down and I leapt into action, certain we were all going to require a hosing down afterward. In the darkness and mayhem, I am still unsure how I emerged with a full tray … and dry.
Senior workups! Senior dogs! The future of elderly pets!
I’m not sure I’m ready for this. Any of it.
The cat is on a senior diet, and for some reason, it is horribly embarrassing to shop for senior cat food. I don’t know why. I feel like the cashier is going to snicker and say something like, “Oh, do you mash up his ‘widdle’ carrots, too!” Well, he does only have one tooth.
The chicken … well, she mainly just sits there and ponders what it was like living through the fall of Rome.
Me? I’m serving early-bird dinners all day long.
Most of all, it makes me think of the good years. And how I hope the critters have plenty more to come. That’s the hard part with pets, isn’t it? Wondering how much longer you’ll have them. How to get the best years out of what’s left. How to keep them healthy, and happy. And most of all, how to collect those specimens without the neighbors telling each other, “Yep, that ended just about how I expected. They’re all going to need a hose-down.”