She's getting older, this pup o' mine. And the signs break my heart. She's grayer under her chin. She hesitates and groans getting into the jeep. The other day, tired of waiting for her to jump down, I placed one arm under Mabel's butt and the other around her chest and lifted all 95 lbs of her to the ground as she groused her shock and disbelief.
She rarely wants to play, even with canine friends. The other day, a rabbit raced across the trail right in front of her. Instead of the expected chase, she turned and looked up at me as if to make sure I didn't realize she failed to race after it.
She has trouble getting in bed. It's no longer enough for her to go into my tiny bathroom for a three-point turn and a two step hop onto the bed. No, she prefers starting in the hallway.
Yesterday, I needed a nap and by some miracle, I made it into bed first (the better to stake my territory!). She came round the far side, sniffing to make sure of where I was; where all my limbs were. And then she disappeared. I thought she had gone into the hall for that longer running start. I raised my head...but no, she wasn't coming.
I leaned over to see if she had decided to nap on the floor... no, she wasn't there either. And then she came bounding in the room and leaped onto the bed. Turns out, she needed an even longer running start and had gone down the hall.
And so, I may be running out of funds faster than I care to admit but, I'm shopping for steps and ramps. Anything for my girl...