A little blurry because both camera and Achilles were in motion.
On getting home, I let myself in leaving the door open. I drop my bag and let the dogs out of the living room, then follow them outside. Achilles romped this afternoon. Kendal tended to business first, then galloped up, his greeting no less enthusiastic.
Sometimes I reflect on Stella’s age. Shes’ eleven. At times though it’s apparent she’s a senior. Her overall energy level is a little lower (thank dog!). I think she’s more content to watch the world go by from her throne, the deck. This rarely saddens me. Dogs grow up, age, get old, and die as we watch their life unfold. It’s life. I don’t look forward to her getting old, infirm, and possibly grumpy. Yet any sadness, not-look-forward-to-it-ness, denial, any negative feelings I may have will not change by one iota the fact, the process, of her aging. I’m very grateful to have had her. I gained purpose at a time when I was looking for purpose. She’s been so good for me and good to me, I hope to have returned a tiny bit of the favour.
previouslytexan 