Every dog has its day

Our dog Nittany jumped down from our couch the other night and she landed awkwardly on the hardwood floor on her back leg. Nittany, our fifteen-year-old, Lhasa Apsa – Bichon Frise, wobbled and then straightened up. She walked the rest of the night with a little hitch. 

She fortunately looked better the next day, but I can’t get around the fact that she’s getting older. When I look at Nittany, I see a puppy, but she’s far from it. Over the years, her whiskers have turned from black to gray; she can’t jump like she used to; and she spends most of her days sleeping. I can see the years catching up to her. 

Of course, later in the evening, I came across this poem about dogs getting older. It hit me directly in the heart. Oh, Nittany, I love you sweet girl. 

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What do you do when your dog grows old?

What do you do when your dog grows old? When his feet are tired, and the pads are worn? When your words of praise are muffled in his ears, and his eyes are milky from their years of use? When his face is grizzled and his color isn’t as vibrant?

You love him.

You rub the feet that dutifully carried him by your side. You speak your praises more loudly, so everybody else can hear the words that he can’t. You guide him the way he has guided you and prevent him from getting lost as you were before he came along.

You kiss his muzzle and admire the wisdom that has beset him in his later years. And when it comes time to put him to his final rest, knowing that an irreplaceable part of your heart will follow him, you will do so knowing that you loved him. 

And he loved you more. He loved you more.

By Jackie Short-Nguyen