What We Can Learn from Old Dogs
JoeJoe
John and I owned two dogs. One was a cocky Cocker Spaniel named Joe-Joe, a young orphan of the Mississippi Delta we adopted while living in Memphis in 2007. The other, a seven year old Springer Spaniel named Fred, also a rescue, moved to Memphis with us. He was not pleased when we left Baltimore and his days with John, who had retired to house husband life.After moving back to the east coast in 2010, we bought a boat and started sailing the Chesapeake Bay. Joe-Joe grudgingly tolerated sailing (I think he liked the way he looked in his life jacket), but Fred hated boating (he refused to jump onto the boat from the dock), suffered seasickness, and experienced high anxiety rather than relaxing nose-in-the-wind carefree calm. Neither tolerated rough water well, throwing up on the cockpit floor when we put the rail in the water. They also hated being alone on the boat, barking their lungs out when we were away for any length of time.
After our two years of sailing, to make a long story short, we had to find them new homes, if we were to fulfill our sailing dreams and they were going to live another season. It was all our fault. We couldn't figure out how to cope living with two dogs on a boat.
I know that you're thinking that we were heartless bastards, giving up our pets to uncertain futures just to satisfy our wanderlust. But wait! We didn't abandon them. Au contraire! We found them certain futures, better futures than staying with us. They left confined city apartment weeks and water logged weekends for exceedingly dog friendly homes that fit their personalities.
With the help of the Mid-Atlantic English Springer Spaniel Rescue organization from which we adopted him, Fred happily trotted off to live with an elderly single lady with a big fenced-in back yard, perfect for chasing squirrels, and a king-size bed, perfect for snuggling at night, in peace and quiet. Joe-Joe, on the other hand, the energetic scruffy guy, moved in with John's oldest daughter and husband, two seriously serious dog lovers. Joe-Joe learned a more disciplined life, lived in a big ol' house and grew to rule the roost with two other dogs, twice his size. Confident that all was well with them, we worked and sailed until we retired, taking a year long live aboard adventure in 2017-2018 along the Atlantic coast and the Bahamas.
Today, Joe-Joe is now an old dog of eleven years (77 in dog years). We're back in a city apartment, home more than ever, now that we're retired. Joe-Joe's with us for a few weeks while John's daughter and husband take a long needed vacation. I overflow with warm fuzzies because he's around the us again. Instead of jumping and running, he walks slowly, gets a bit shaky if he stands too long (but walks fine) and sleeps a lot. He's near deaf so there's no barking at hall noises or bangs or booms from outside construction. His eyes are failing so he sticks close to us. Over the years he's endured multiple health crises. His once slim body is now hefty, bumpy and spotted with little black moles that poke through the still golden hair on his back. He's turned into a speckled Cocker Spaniel, but, he's still Joe-Joe, a lovely little guy ready to be with you where ever you are.
Watching Joe-Joe has given me insights into my own coming old age. Seeing is more memorable than reading about the future. For example, in just two days, I've learned that:
It's alright to snore. Those around me will get used to it and I can't hear it.
It's okay to ask for help when I can't climb onto a tall bar stool by myself. I can drink just fine once I'm there.
Bury my meds in my food. That way I won't realize I'm taking them and that they taste like shit.
Don't laugh when my walk looks more like a waddle. I can still bite your leg.
Hug me a lot. My old age spots won't rub off on you and I'll kiss you in the face.
Look up sweetly and smile at all those young people. They don't know my age and think that little ol' ladies are harmless.
Keep me walking. If I start to wander, put me on a leash and give it a tug. I know you still love me.