My dog and I are in the middle of a life transition. He is a senior and it's starting to show. The beautiful silver hairs began a long time ago and while it was stressful to be reminded of his eventual departure from this world, his continued energy and vibrance had always put this worry on the back burner.
In the seven years we have spent together I have had the most wonderful dog. Never a counter surfer or interested in the trash. He loves his cat siblings and is the best at cuddling. Many days I come home and am even more grateful that he is so perfect after being in lessons with dogs that need constant guidance.
So last week when I was curled up on the couch watching a movie and he walked away for a bit I didn't think anything of it. He came back, tail wagging, looking for kisses as he always does. And that's when it happened. His face was covered in litter. In all our time together he had never shown interest in the coveted poop sand. He was so proud. He had found the ultimate treasure.
Not long after, we started having some odd bedtime occurrences. I would get settled and invite him up to sleep on the big bed as always. He happily jumped up…but quickly got down. He came to my side to stare at me with the look that said "hey mom, I think I have to go potty." So I took him outside, and that's when I could see it. The confusion. The look of forgetfulness. "Why am I out here?" his eyes said. My heart broke. My beautiful boy was stepping into the next, and last, part of his life.
The next few hours were spent trying to help him settle and sleep with me as he always did. His brain was telling him otherwise. He was pacing non-stop. Up on the bed, off the bed, coming to my side, and then just laying on the floor in defeat. By 6am, after numerous confused potty breaks, he finally fell asleep.
As his mom, his guardian, his safety net — I made a promise when I adopted him. I would take care of him through all his years. I will keep the soft lights on all night so he can see better now that the darkness is confusing. I will keep soft music playing and lavender in the air to bring him comfort. I will embrace his pacing and confusion even if it means I get far less sleep. I can always wash the carpet. I can always take naps. I won't always have my dog, so I will embrace his aging as I have embraced all parts of our time together.
This is a really hard thing to write. To acknowledge the end that will someday come. I take comfort in knowing he won't go through this alone. I will do my very best to continue to help him through this just as he has helped me through some of the darkest days. Love you, Porter James.