Finding it hard
I’m finding it hard, being an elderly dog. I’m doing my best, but there are some parts about it that could make me cry. I used to be able to jump ditches. Now it’s as much as I can do to get my rear end to stay upright. Whilst Ari is running upstairs taking three at a time I’m struggling with each and every one. Going up is ok most of the time, although it’s better if my Mistress will follow to keep my back end going forwards if it forgets. Going down is an altogether different situation. I do have occasional good days, when everything seems to work. Then I have days when quite honestly it’s more about carefully manoeuvring my front end down, with my Mistress supporting my weight and hoping my back end doesn’t get down first.
Physiotherapy
I’m going to try some physiotherapy to see if that will help, but if I’m being honest the whole situation is starting to get me down. I may have to give in and say I’ll start sleeping downstairs. The worst of that though is knowing that the day I say that, I will never get to go upstairs again. I’ve told Wilma not to get too excited at the prospect as I’ll be bringing my good bed down with me if I do. Our Mistress has already said she’ll rearrange the kitchen to give me more space and try to create a nice cosy corner for me. That’s something, but I’ve slept close to her and kept an eye on her for the last more than thirteen years. Ever since I first found my way round the stairgate when I was young. I’ll worry about her if I’m down here and I can’t see her. I’ll miss her too.
Swimming
I’m determined to have a good swimming session today as that really is very important in keeping me moving. I’m just a bit worried after last week’s panic attack though. I really don’t want it to happen again.
No one tells you how hard it is to grow old.
Love
Alfie