My dear old 14-year-old doggie continues to astonish Jonathan and me. We never expected her to make it through the winter, and here she is, still suffused with enough gumption to wander off and scare the heck out her people parents.
We started putting a doggie diaper on Kate a few weeks ago, since the occasional surprise package drops in and finds itself onto a shoe, then everywhere the shoe travels, until shoe-wearer finally clues in to the propagating odor. However, Kate rarely needs it now that we’re more diligently listening to her requests to go outside.
Like today – nudge nudge, shove computer arm, give Mom the wet nose. Okay, Kate, here you go. Of course Mom gets distracted, until a text from a neighbor says Kate has sauntered past her house.
Luckily, Kate is trackable in the snow, with her prominent foot-drag. We caught her before she hit the big main road. “Hey,” said deaf Kate to her panting, yelling Dad; “What’s up?” She meandered by his side, unphased, back down the hill. She doesn’t even know she’s old.
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 231: 180 words, TOTAL = 37,741; 22,259 remaining
Robin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs.