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Posts Tagged ‘Senior Dogs’

To say that the past year has been, ‘a bit of a challenge’ for us all is something of an understatement. If you’re anything like me, you have your good days when you’re just happy to be safe and well, and your ‘I can’t watch one more news report’ days; days when there’s light at the end of the tunnel, and days when it’s basically all tunnel.

Amongst the gloom however, there is still joy to be found. Little moments of magic that lift my spirits and fill my heart. Mine usually show up fur-covered, so I thought I’d share one with you.

Little Bear, as you know, will be fourteen this summer. But despite his advancing years, he still loves to play. Finding adult dogs willing to play with him is a challenge though and my heart has splintered on countless occasions watching his valiant attempts given the cold shoulder.

It was something of an unexpected delight then that a few months ago, our friend’s rescue Luna gave him the paws up. I don’t know who was more amazed – me or Bear!

They’ve been playing regularly ever since and seeing the contented look on his face – well, it’s nothing short of magical.

You can watch the video here: https://youtu.be/KZn84BwlvKk

Bear and his pal Luna

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My canine alarm went off at 4.27 am which, believe it or not, is a lie-in as Annie usually wakes between 2 and 3 am.

It was my turn on the couch with her last night, but after a day of deep cleaning the house, I decided to try and grab a few hours in bed first.

I slept like a butcher’s dog, waiting for the woof. When it came, I hurried down the stairs only to be greeted by the unmistakable stench of dog wee.

Diagnosis

Thanks to our lovely vet, we now at least have a diagnosis. Our darling girl has dementia.

The minute she said the word it all made sense. The pacing, the laps of the house, the nighttime disturbances and the random demand barking.

To the list this week, we’ve had to add what seems to be a new fear of the back door, a flat-out refusal to eat her dried food and a runaway bladder (hence the deep clean which included Annie herself).

Management

The baby gate has been hauled back out of the garage and with a heavy heart, we’ve had to confine her to her dog room overnight for the sake of both the flooring and what’s left of our sanity. Not that she minds at all, she loves her room, but guilt is my default.

We have a new harness on order that’s soft enough for her to wear all day. It has a handle so that we can lead her out into the garden, because carrying a stubborn 28kg Lab to the toilet is really no fun for anyone, least of all her bless her.

As ever, canine social media has been a godsend, this time connecting me to a lovely lady in the US who’s also caring for a senior dog with dementia and has been so generous with her time and experiences. We know it will progress, but knowing what to expect at least puts us on the front foot. Our vets are fabulous, but being able to chat to someone about the day to day realities and practicalities is invaluable.

Still our girl

She’s sleeping peacefully now by my side as I sit, bleary-eyed and huddled under the duvet that has migrated to live permanently at the end of the couch, ready for whichever one of us is on Annie watch.

After being up for almost an hour, I gave up on the idea of dozing and made my first coffee of the morning. As I stood at the stove, she stopped her pacing and wagged at me as if she’d not seen me all night.

It was her usual morning wag, an enthusiastic, Dobby-eared greeting that has always kicked off our little morning ritual of cuddles. She’s still our Annie and for that I’m ridiculously grateful.

Annie loves her Dog Room bed (she has another three to choose from around the house)

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I’m writing this after two very strong cups of coffee. It was my turn on the canine night shift and after a couple of weeks of relatively few interruptions, Annie outdid herself last night.

At fourteen and a half, it’s to be expected. Arthritis, confusion and a weaker bladder, all conspire to play their part and when she wakes, she woofs for us. Bear joined in too last night, twice waking me for a bathroom break. All in, I was up six times.

I’d be lying if I said that there were nights when stumbling down the stairs by the light of my phone, I didn’t long for an uninterrupted night’s sleep, but in the absence of a functioning time machine, a quiet night would mean only one thing. When I think of it like that, the interruptions are a gift.

Senior dogs

Caring for senior dogs isn’t easy. While Bear is wearing his thirteen and a half years pretty lightly (touch wood), Annie is feeling her age. In response, our lives have pivoted around her care. We’ve spent countless nights sleeping on the couch next to her when nothing else would coax her to sleep. I abandoned my upstairs office and moved my desk to the kitchen to be close to her (and always available for backdoor duty). After a bout of fainting episodes the vet diagnosed as neurological, one of us is with her at all times, which makes even walking Bear together an impossibility.

Her medication schedule sits on a clipboard in the kitchen and alarms on Other Half’s phone remind us to dish out her pills three times a day to keep her comfortable. When everyone else was panic-buying toilet paper, we were stocking up on lentil shell crisps and peanut butter – her pill delivery method of choice!

Every day is a blessing

We know our time together is limited, that our love will one day need to step up to the plate, but that just means that every day is both a blessing and a bonus. In the meantime, so long as she’s wagging her tail, reminding us of her mealtimes, demanding the odd walk when the fancy takes her and enjoying her life, we’ll move heaven and Earth to care for her.

Annie ‘Nightwalker’ 😉

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Never stop playing

Black and white photo of Mini Schnauzer with soft toy in his mouth

Playtime Bear

I had to eat my breakfast at double speed this morning because Little Bear was desperate to play. So desperate that he was actually whining at me. It’s the same story most days. He’ll eat his breakfast, head out to the garden for his ablutions and then charge in, full of the joys, looking for a teddy or a tennis ball.
He loves being chased and when that gets too much, he plays football, flicking a tennis ball with his paw while ‘savaging’ a teddy. He loves being told he’s clever, so another game usually involves me hiding a toy under a blanket or the cushion on his bed which he then snuffles out, tail wagging in anticipation of the praise.
He doesn’t play for long these days, ten minutes tops, but to see him, you’d never think he was fast approaching thirteen. The reality of their respective ages is never far from my mind, a shadow over the sun of our lovely days together. That’s why I’ll not deny him a single minute of playtime. It lifts me too, just to see him so happy, so caught up in just enjoying the fun of the moment.

There’s a quote that I love that says, ‘We don’t stop playing because we get old, we get old because we stop playing.’ Never stop playing Little Bear. x

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