Life is odd.
It would seem that as we aged we'd become more agile physically and mentally, rather than just mentally.
Or maybe that's just middle age.
I love watching puppies. They're quite clumsy and dorky. And yet they continue to push onward to get to where they believe they should be - it's instinct.
And as they grow, they adapt to the new challenges around them.
Dogs can do that. Adapt - to a new home, family, siblings, surroundings, what have you.
but not always to a new food....yuck.
People have troubles adapting to new things, unexpected things. I watch, listen, and see it everyday.
Age makes it tougher.
I watch Skally.
I remember her as a young lass. I recall the days she'd leap through the tall grass with the other dogs in our walking club. They'd leap up as dolphins in the sea of grass. It was marvelous, breath taking, jubilant, and memorable. I remember Syd running through, as well, but not having the long legs to imitate - but quick enough to run below them.
Those days are over, though. I watch my gazelle toddle around the yard, her legs, sometimes, moving like steel pegs from the arthritis. And then a bark comes from the other side of the fence - And she springs into action! No bother to the pain, but leaps and pounces that soar over the grass and pathway to meet her friend/foe for fence fighting.
I know the end could come at any time. It could for any of the pups; but for her it would be a natural progression.
I treasure her days as I would anything priceless.
I laugh each day as I move the sheep skin back to its place in the living room from where she's moved it to cuddle.
I pull her tautly on the lead when she demands to sniff far off track from the others, and wants nothing else but to investigate something unseen.
She didn't adapt to her age. She grew with it.
She adapted to her new siblings as they came in, and reigns over them.
She is regal. She's the Queen Victoria of the manse.
I write this in case I forget in the future.
Misty-eyed, I ponder her beauty, her grace, her style, her judgemental stares. Her sense of humor and insistence which crop up daily.
She may have leapt wonderfully as a young lass, but her style and finesse will always be bounding through my mind.
It would seem that as we aged we'd become more agile physically and mentally, rather than just mentally.
Or maybe that's just middle age.
I love watching puppies. They're quite clumsy and dorky. And yet they continue to push onward to get to where they believe they should be - it's instinct.
And as they grow, they adapt to the new challenges around them.
Dogs can do that. Adapt - to a new home, family, siblings, surroundings, what have you.
but not always to a new food....yuck.
People have troubles adapting to new things, unexpected things. I watch, listen, and see it everyday.
Age makes it tougher.
I watch Skally.
I remember her as a young lass. I recall the days she'd leap through the tall grass with the other dogs in our walking club. They'd leap up as dolphins in the sea of grass. It was marvelous, breath taking, jubilant, and memorable. I remember Syd running through, as well, but not having the long legs to imitate - but quick enough to run below them.
Those days are over, though. I watch my gazelle toddle around the yard, her legs, sometimes, moving like steel pegs from the arthritis. And then a bark comes from the other side of the fence - And she springs into action! No bother to the pain, but leaps and pounces that soar over the grass and pathway to meet her friend/foe for fence fighting.
I know the end could come at any time. It could for any of the pups; but for her it would be a natural progression.
I treasure her days as I would anything priceless.
I laugh each day as I move the sheep skin back to its place in the living room from where she's moved it to cuddle.
I pull her tautly on the lead when she demands to sniff far off track from the others, and wants nothing else but to investigate something unseen.
She didn't adapt to her age. She grew with it.
She adapted to her new siblings as they came in, and reigns over them.
She is regal. She's the Queen Victoria of the manse.
I write this in case I forget in the future.
Misty-eyed, I ponder her beauty, her grace, her style, her judgemental stares. Her sense of humor and insistence which crop up daily.
She may have leapt wonderfully as a young lass, but her style and finesse will always be bounding through my mind.
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