So What If She Has Gray Hair

If there is one thing in life that causes me constant stress and worry it is this...my dog is getting older. She is 12 years old. Depending on which study you listen to, in people years she is somewhere between 55 & 84 years old. Obviously, the one I subscribe to is the first number. The 84 years was calculated using the pretty much discounted theory of 7 people years for every dog year. The 55 is based on a theory I heard on Animal Planet a couple of years ago.

Anyway, back to my main point. Obviously, as the years have passed there have been many signs and symptons that Noelle is "not as young as she used to be." But that's okay...neither am I...neither are you. I have found that while it hurts me to see her struggle to do things that once came so easily...I am filled with so much more joy when I catch little glimpses of her "inner puppy" emerging on a daily basis. She still loves to run...even though the arthritis has slowed her. She still follows me around...even if she has cut back on some trips to save energy. She still loves to go for rides in the car and to sleep on my bed...even if I have to help her up into both places. She still loves to dive on top of me and lick my face until it's raw...even if she has to take a few more breathers these days between attacks.

She still loves to smile...

Tonight, while we were on our walk, Noelle lost her balance and fell. It was something I haven't seen her do before...and it scared the crap out of me. I helped her up and tried to make sure she was okay...but she would have nothing of it...she was already rushing off to finish our stroll. That's Noelle...dedicated to fun.

For 12 years (with many more to go) Noelle has been there to pick me up when I am down. Now it is my turn to return the favor.

I love this dog.