The Gifts of Old Age

See those eyes. Imagine a soft whimper to go along with it. That was Riley this morning at my feet as I had finished my oatmeal and was starting to write. I had already let him out twice and checked his water bowl. He doesn't eat at this hour, so I wasn't sure what he wanted, but there he sat with that plaintive look, asking me for something, and once again I was frustrated that I don't speak Lhasa.

This language barrier, however, does not stop me from talking to him, so I picked him up, put him in my lap, and explained that I was trying to write, and to my surprise he settled down and now sits here warm and soft. Now I have the problem of trying to type when he's in front of the keyboard, but that's okay.

This is a new behavior. When he was younger the only time he would sit on my lap was when he was scared--either when there was a thunder storm or when I was about to leave him, but he is old now, 14 to be exact. Now he is content to just sit and cuddle, and I am pleased to have him here  especially on this frigid morning. Don't get me wrong, I have always appreciated him, enjoyed his youthful energy, his curiosity, but this quieter, mellower pup is a gift.

There have been other, not so welcome changes. He seems to have forgotten the rules about bodily elimination, so I invest in puppy pads which I place at his favorite release points. Of course, then he finds new favorite spots. He still loves his walks in the park, though he tends to leave the geese to themselves, and he no longer chases any of the squirrels or cats who wander into the yard. He takes longer naps and  sleeps much more soundly.

Funny, I find myself taking longer naps too. Yes, we're growing older together, and when it's sub-zero outside and the world is still enjoying Valentine's candy, it's nice to have someone warm and soft to cuddle with.