Woody turned nine back in December and still has the energy of a two-year-old. I never feel like he's slowing down. But lately, I've been getting subtle reminders that nine is actually a very impressive and desirable age to make it to in the dog world. A few large dog breeds are lucky to make it to nine and many dogs are living the equivalent of the laid-back life retired snow bird men enjoy.
The last few weeks on our walks, I've encountered multiple people who ask how old he is, and when I respond that he's nine I get the same response: "He looks good for nine!" I know no one is trying to upset me by reminding me how old he is, but I can't help but feel a little sad each time. Now, I find myself paying closer attention to any new quirks, noises, and changes in appetite and endurance levels to make sure I don't miss any of those getting-older signs. So far so good.
More importantly, I look at Woody differently with a greater sense of appreciation for all he's taught me in our five years together and I have a new outlook on our time together - it must be cherished. I need to do what I can to keep him healthy and enjoy many more years of selfies.
I have one more Christmas get-together today. New Year's is this week. This is how Woody felt after Christmas morning, and it is how I'm going to feel come next weekend. Is everyone else having as much fun as us?
In case you haven't heard, Lebron James is returning to the Cavs, a moment I never thought I'd see. Woody celebrated in true Cleveland fashion.
I'm just a twenty-something female raising the weirdest dog I've ever met.