Old Dogs

An excerpt from the book, 50 Things That Really Matter. And no, I didn’t ask permission. I’m not gaining anything, just thought this was worth passing on. It will be relevant in a future blog.

OLD DOGS

“When my old golden retriever developed major health problems, I knew that watching him fail would be painful, but I wasn’t prepared for the powerful lessons he’d offer in the last year of his life.

Chance was 14 when the problems started. First, he developed a thyroid tumor that collapsed his throat and left him whistling for breath. Then came cataracts in both eyes, arthritis in his hips, and a series of ministrokes that threw off his balance. Any one of these setbacks would have left me pleading for relief, but Chance became more serene as the disabilities piled up - seemingly seizing each problem as an opportunity to demonstrate how to face aging with dignity and grace.

When hip pain left him frozen on the floor, unable to rise for a quick pet as I came home, he didn’t complain. He just lay there patiently, beckoning me with his thumping tail, each stroke spelling out the value of waiting for the things you want.

When his cataracts made navigating difficult after dark, he’d stand calmly until I could guide him inside, proving how easy it is to find contentment if you let go of your pride and insecurities and learn to lean on those who love you.

When ministrokes had him staggering like a drunk, he taught the value of persistence. For days after each attack, he’d lurch and fall as he moved about. Yet again and again he’d try to walk, each day moving a few more steps until finally he was able to get outside and back by himself.

There were lessons in so much of what he did, but the key one surely was the importance of living in the moment – of extracting all the joy possible from each experience – whether it’s a day lazing under a warm sun or a few minutes savoring a favorite meal.

For most of our life together, Chance was always rushing ahead, searching out new adventures, then circling back to let me know what lay around the next bend. As an old dog, he did the same thing, using his attitude, instead of his once-fast legs, to show the way. For this, I’ll be forever grateful.”

- Kevin Ireland -