My heavy-hearted love for senior dogs
You can teach an old dog new tricks — when it depends on survival
She tapped the other pug’s paw gently. If you blinked, you missed it. But I knew why she did it. The pug wearing the green harness is both blind and deaf. The pug wearing the red harness appears to be hard of hearing but can see. Red Harness knew that Green Harness wouldn’t immediately be able to tell that I’d just walked into the room — that is, until the two 13-year-olds (age 68, according to small breed aging) could smell me. And since neither of them jumped up to greet me when I walked in, it took me a couple of minutes to figure out where they were. I finally found them sitting in a dog bed together, not moving but sniffing the air.
Recommended Read: “When your dog loses her sight ~ Subtle ways to figure out your dog needs visual help before it’s too late”
Initially this dog walking job just seemed too intimidating. I took it on before I knew what the owner’s dog notes would say. And after I read all of the instructions, I sighed. The devil on one shoulder said, “Cancel it! That’s a lot to handle.” The angel on my other shoulder said, “Don’t be a jackass. Just walk the dogs. Would you want someone to treat you like that if you were deaf and blind?” (Note: My angel has a bit of a foul mouth and no interest in changing her ways.)
I listened to the angel and figured if I was going to decide this walk was a lot of work, the least I could do was try. Although I’d had two dogs growing up (a Labrador Retriever/German Shepherd crossbreed for 13 years, and a purebred German Shepherd for nine years), neither of them went through any major injuries or ailments before they passed away. The Lab started walking slower and wasn’t as energetic, but he just died in his sleep in the basement — no warning. The German Shepherd was walking faster than me on New Year’s Day a few years back, and again, out of nowhere, laid on the hallway floor. It turned out she had cancer, and absolutely no one knew. She was put to sleep the same month.
So I’d never had a dog who actually looked like (s)he got older. But I learned fairly quickly that senior dogs have a special place in my heart. I walked several within the past year, all between 10–13 years old in human years.
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First there was the American Eskimo who couldn’t walk up and down stairs and/or barely in a straight line. I carried her down three flights of steps while she wiggled around. And I put on my sunglasses to hide the tears while I watched her struggle to walk in a straight line down one block.
Then there was the Louisiana Catahoula Leopard, who’d lost complete control of her bowels. I got used to cleaning up after her and putting down new pads when I entered the apartment. Our morning, noon and evening walks were almost entirely just exercise.