I watch him more now, worried that he may stumble and fall. He's thirteen years old, pretty old for a lab. I have had him since he was three months, all legs and tail and an insatiable curiosity about life.

Last weekend he got to go camping again for the first time in a long time. There were two other dogs there, and they seemed to sense that he was a bit more fragile. He actually ran a few times, that old dog run that hints at the puppy he once was. He had the time of his life, I think.

He also got confused about where we were, having such poor eyesight and being very hard of hearing.

Poor old guy...he was the best watch dog...nothing could get in without his deep bark and I even heard a growl once, but I think that once inside, that tongue that loves to lick and that tail that once actually got sore (the vet called it limber tail) would make any intruder feel welcome.

Now he spends his days sleeping. More often than not he has trouble standing up, and sometimes he can't make it outside soon enough. I don't blame him for any messes he makes...that look on his face tells me everything. He didn't mean to.

The day he leaves me will be one of the worst.
posted by Wanting at 2:41 AM