Tuesday, September 25, 2007
This morning I let "Old Man" out and he evidently went on one of his rare walk-abouts.
They seem to be unintentional and are sort of like when an alzheimer's patient goes missing. It happens maybe once a year. At 18, Babe is happily senile and just wanders from place to place without any sense of direction. His mouth is in dreadful shape and his heart murmur can be felt through the the bones of his rib cage.
"Don't you think it's maybe time to put him to sleep?" Scott asks.
I bristle a bit as I do when the subject comes up.
"It's not time." I say. "He'll tell me when it's time. It's not like he's in pain and he's not incontinent...he just forgets where he is when he has to go."
The truth is, Babe has pretty much destroyed my hardwood floors. He will spend the entire day dozing outside on the porch and forget to do his business. Often the first thing he does when he comes inside is hike his leg on my favorite chair.
Scott seems to think it's funny that Babe will go on a wander for a mile or so then come inside to use the toilet.
But he's my sweet, ancient "Little Old Man". No matter that he was only supposed to live three months when he arrived here. Now, three years later, he's one of my babies. Every year, I brace for his passing and he just seems to keep toddling around.
So, he disappeared for a little while this morning. I looked in all of his usual places. He falls asleep very deeply and because he is almost deaf, he can't hear you call him. You have to wake him up with a pet or a stomp on the porch.
I waited round for him and he finally came back. And he brought a friend with him.
A very tiny little Mountain Feist. These are great little dogs and I hadn't seen this fellow around before. They are excellent on squirrels. I picked him up and when I tried to put him down, he didn't want to get down. He had the radar-like bat ears and a tiny little button nose. Very sweet. I gave him some water...he seemed very well cared for, if a bit shy.
He finally trotted off and I hope he found his way home. If not, I'm sure he'll be back and we'll find out where he belongs.
Dogs know Rosie. I'm the weird old dog lady.
"Stranger dog" experiences can be great (also had a couple scary ones). My favorite was one time in my late twenties when I went jogging at the beach off season and this dog started running with me. He was the perfect "jogging companion." Didn't get underfoot, kept a reasonable distance, stayed with me the whole length of the beach. I was almost as sad to leave him as he was! Looked like he thought this was going to go on forever as friends for life.
Never forgot him though, and gave him a ride back to the area on the beach where I picked him up since I'd taken him from one end of the beach to the other. Sad eyes sitting in the middle of the road looking at me from my rear view mirror! I felt like a traitor!