Older Dog Wisdom: Tux 40 - Thanks Giving

There is much to be thankful for in Tux’s home this year.

We survived his sister Grace’s cancer scare. Grace and I fought minor seasonal allergies while Tux fought not only seasonal allergies, but food and environmental allergies as well. Tux had periods of time when he was allergy free, for which we are all thankful 

We survived tornadoes, wind storms, snow storms, ice, sleet, prolonged periods of high temperatures, and other weather-related issues. We managed to go through four or five tornado warnings without having to huddle in the basement waiting for the house to come down around our ears. We hate basements. 

When we weren’t huddled together against the elements, we enjoyed periods when it was a joy to get out, go to a favorite park and walk a mile or two with ease. We enjoyed nearly daily walks in parks. We survived an attack by a snarling devil dog (thanks to Grace, who nipped the much larger dog on the ear and he retreated). We met many people in the parks - with and without dogs of their own. Some stop and pet Tux and Grace every time we see them while others comment on how cute they are. Grace loves the latter people. We’ve watched the parks we walk in change with the seasons, going from admiring the newly budded trees, to the awful heat where everyone and everything tries to survive, to the beauty of fall colors to the freezing cold and snow on the ground.

Tux is especially grateful for his toys - from the oldest (11 years old) to the newest.

Yes, we have much to be thankful for - including each other. Tux and Grace have brought much laughter to their humans with their antics. Grace can do silly things and remain dignified while Tux can do dignified things and look silly. Always, always, they are at the door to greet us when we come home for which we are thankful. They are grateful because we go for walks and we feed them at regular intervals. Who can ask for anything more than that?

Older Dog Wisdom: Tux 38 - Making Lemonade

A while ago, Tux’s sister, Grace, had surgery. She had a cancerous bone in her left front paw, and the toe had to be amputated. Her surgery went well. When Grace came home, Tux commented that she “smelled funny.” Grace, though, was still woozy from the anesthesia and the pain meds. She didn’t care what he thought.

As Grace convalesced, our routine changed. Grace’s doctor said that she needed to take it easy until the stitches were removed. She wasn’t allowed to go on our morning walks. Since I was already feeling guilty about her having lost a toe and having a huge bandage on her foot, I decided that if Grace couldn’t go out for walks, then Tux and I wouldn’t either.

Tux, of course, didn’t understand the concept of solidarity. It made no sense to him that just because Grace couldn’t go for walks that neither could he. He wasn’t injured in any way so how come he wasn’t going to get to walk in the park every morning? Of course, Grace didn’t look at him with her big Cocker Spaniel eyes asking why she couldn’t go out for walks. No, she turned those eyes on me.

So I now had two Cocker Spaniels looking dolefully at me every morning. It’s almost more than I can handle. Oh, the guilt of it all! What a bad mother I am to deny my four-legged children their heart’s desire. I got over myself by blaming it all on the vet who had said Grace couldn’t go for walks with us until she got her stitches removed. 

Tux, of course, still didn’t understand his being denied the highlight of his day just because his sister had been told to stay home. But he dealt with that, too. He told himself it wouldn’t last forever, and that he would benefit from an extra hour’s nap.

Lesson Learned

Sometimes we don’t understand why things happen to us. The best we can do is think of all the cliches we’ve ever heard about bad things happening to good people. Cliches like “When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.” I do love fresh-squeezed lemonade, and I've been drinking a lot of it lately.

Older Dog Wisdom: Tux 37 - A Boring Walk

This morning’s walk with Tux and Grace was so uneventful that Tux didn’t know what to do with himself. There was nary a duck, a bunny, or even another dog to be seen. There was nothing to stalk. No dog to protect his sister from. Not even a human to smooze. What was a guy to do?

Tux checked out all his usual places - the underbrush where he had vanquished a bunny the day before, the path leading into the park where he’d seen the obese black dog two days earlier. Alas, there was no bunny and no black dog.

As we rounded the final curve before heading home, there were no Mallards. Then he saw something, though, because he went into stalker mode - pulling up his left front paw in a beautifully executed hunter’s pose, then he began placing one paw slowly in front of the other, he wanted no fast moves that would startle his quarry into flight. We three, Tux, Grace, and I, were sneaking up on something. After each step, he’d pause, slowly raise his front paw, pause, take another step. Repeat. The classic hunting dog’s recipe.

Unfortunately for Tux, the effect of his magnificence was lost on the two elderly people who were headed our way  and who he’d been stalking. As they neared, the man kept his distance, as well he should, in the presence of an Alpha male like Tux. The woman, on the other hand, stopped in front of Tux and bent down to extend her hand, palm down, to him. Tux took a cautious sniff of the woman’s hand. He lost interest when his sniff revealed that these people didn’t even own a dog. The woman cooed, “What a cute dog! How old is he?” When I told her Tux was 11, she replied, “My goodness, that’s really old for a dog, isn’t it?”

Grace snickered, I swear.

Tux, in an effort to keep his dignity in tact, muttered, “Old, smold. I’m the one with all my teeth and no gray hairs.” He turned his back on the woman and busied himself with inspecting the moss growing nearby.

I wished the couple a good day, and we continued on our way. Tux preferring to forget that the woman existed. He was in search of something, anything, of interest. There was nothing this morning. Even the Westies, normally in their yard as we pass by, were no where to be seen. 

What a boring walk, Tux pronounced as we headed home.

Lesson Learned

Not every walk is interesting according to Tux. We humans need to learn that lesson as well. Not every day of our lives will be filled with interesting people and/or events. We need to appreciate the “boring” days as much as we do the exciting ones. We need to learn how to entertain ourselves when he have one of those boring days when nothing of interest is supposedly happening.

Older Dog Wisdom: Grace 5 - Hawk!

As Grace, Tux, and I walked along the park path minding our own business as well as Grace and Tux doing their business, a hawk came swooping out of a nearby tree and dipped low. Only Grace noticed it. Tux was busy ascertaining whether a grasshopper was a serious threat to the security of his family.

Grace followed the flight pattern of the hawk. It was by far the largest bird she’d ever seen. When the hawk settled gracefully on a large branch of a nearby tree, Grace watched it. When it didn’t take flight again, Grace lost interest. She moved closer to her brother and nudged him with her nose as if to say, “Did you see that?” He, of course, was oblivious, but to be supportive of his sister, he looked around with a look that clearly said, “Huh? What?” Grace rolled her eyes and turned away. She glanced at the hawk still on its branch, still watching us.

I assumed the hawk was trying to decide how to get the tasty-looking black cocker spaniel, with just enough meat on her bones to be juicy, back to its nest. I didn’t like the way the hawk was tracking Grace and so decided it was time to depart the scene before the hawk could figure out the logistics of kidnapping Grace. 

Grace, too, seemed to be aware of the hawk’s intention. As we made our way back along the path toward where we’d left the car, I noticed Gracie glancing over her shoulder. We moved up the walkway with more speed than we generally move at that hour of the morning.

When we finally rounded the corner, we were out of sight of the hawk. Grace and I visibly relaxed, and Tux wanted to know why we were slowing down. He was more interested in getting to the car and getting back home to his breakfast. 

As we sauntered along the path, the hawk came by for yet another look at the tempting tidbit ambling along the walkway. Grace had seen it too and began pulling on the leash in an effort to get us to the car faster or, at least, to the path with its leafy canopy. Since Grace is not a hurrier, I picked up the pace. 

Soon, we were racing (well, for us, it was racing, for others it might have looked more like a lively saunter) for the car. I couldn’t get Grace and Tux into the car fast enough. Or myself, for that matter. 

We’ll never know if the hawk figured out the physics of picking up and flying off with an object that weighed three times what he did. Probably not. Hopefully not. One never knows though. Better to be safely at home than fighting hawks, I say.

Older Dog Wisdom: Tux 36 - Missed Opportunity

Our walk was, for all practical purposes, well, uneventful. The weather was cool as the sun had barely risen over the rooftops of the neighborhood’s homes. It was a welcome relief from the days of sweltering temperatures during the day and humid nights. The breeze that occasionally kicked up as we strolled along the path was both welcome  and raising the hope that this day wouldn’t turn ugly on us.

As we turned the corner to head back to the car, I noticed a small creature standing in front of us. It was only barely on the sidewalk and would have been unnoticeable had it been in the nearby grass. 

I waited for Tux to snap into hunter mode, but he seemed not to see the creature. Even Grace seemed not to notice the lurking creature. A dog bark from somewhere across the street caught Tux’s attention. He stared hard into the neighborhood hoping to catch sight of loud-mouthed dog. 

We moved slowly up the sidewalk, but the creature declined to remove itself from our path. Did it not realize the danger it was in? We did, after all, have an intrepid hunter with us who, if he ever sighted the creature, would hunt it down. Instead of fleeing, it continued to hold its ground.

I began to think that maybe it was injured and unable to leave the eminent danger a mere 18 inches away. It was then that I realized that this was no creature. It was bird. A baby bird. A baby Cardinal. No wonder it was sitting placidly on the sidewalk. It had no experience with someone like Tux. The closer we got, the clearer it became that it was, indeed, a baby Cardinal.

Just as I was deciding to take Tux and Grace on a detour, the baby flew away, although it had a tough time gaining altitude. At the same time, Tux finally noticed it. He was totally stunned as he watched it fly away.

Lesson Learned

Tux had once again missed an opportunity to be a real hunter. Do we humans do the same thing? Do we miss opportunities because we are distracted by the equivalent of a barking dog?

Keeping Appointments: Tux - Older Dog Wisdom

Tux and I have a daily appointment to go for a walk. He loves his routines. He expects to have his morning walk in by nine. He’s okay with walking earlier, but insists that the walk must start by mid-morning. If we’re not out the door on his timetable, he starts pacing. He goes from wherever I’m at to the front door and back again. When I don’t get that hint, he’ll sit where he can make eye contact with me, and stares at me. He’s willing me to get up from the computer and leave for our walk. 

Having a Cocker Spaniel stare at you is hard to resist. When Tux and his sister, Grace, were puppies, I couldn’t resist. Over the years, though, I’ve grown tougher. I can resist for a while. In any event, we get out of the door mostly on schedule. Tux’s schedule, I might add.

On a recent walk after a tremendous storm the afternoon before, we saw the paths strewn with puddles like polka dots dropped every few feet. There were hundreds of twigs and small branches strewn down the paths as well. There were even branches three inches thick obstructing our way. There were no trees torn up by the roots. Even the young saplings planted last fall weathered the storm, more or less in tact.

Tux kept thinking that the larger branches might be dangerous snakes or eels or something. He stalked a lot of them. None turned out to be either dangerous or dangers reptiles.

We were the only ones in the park. There were only a few squirrels out and about. Even the birds were quiet. The morning was cool and we enjoyed the walk although we had to cut it short when Grace started limping badly. 

Lesson Learned

Even Tux understands the importance of being on time. People who keep me waiting for an appointment drive me crazy. I’ve been known to walk out of doctors’ offices when they’ve kept me waiting way beyond my appointment time. At some level, I can understand being kept waiting by doctors, although why they haven’t figured out that if they’re consistently behind schedule, they need to space their appointments further apart. 

Tux obviously has a schedule: breakfast as soon as I get up, morning nap, walk by nine, nap until lunch, outside for a stroll around his yard, back in for his afternoon nap, dinner, nap, outside, and to bed by ten. He likes to keep his schedule. 

Older Dog Wisdom: Grace 3 - Past Prime

Grace is the extrovert of the family. She loves people. Let me be more precise, she loves being the center of attention. There have only been a couple of people who she didn’t like. One was a vet who had fast hands and no bed-side manner, and misdiagnosed the cancer that caused her toe to be amputated. The other was a rude plumber who, as it turns out, was incompetent. Grace had been right to not like both those men.

We were out for our walk one morning recently. We were in the park by 6:00 am (and it was already 80 degrees and humid). We passed by a dog we’d never seen before and its owner. Then there was another walker, a woman. Grace was doing her best to charm the woman. Her tail was going a mile a minute. She was at her most charming. The woman, however, was apparently immune to Grace’s charms. The woman ignored her.

Grace isn’t used to being ignored. It had all begun when she was a puppy. She was as cute as the day is long. Wherever we went, people would come to her oohing and ahhing over how cute she was. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to rub her tiny soft ears, caress her silky-soft coat, and watch the tiny tail wagging so fast that it appeared that it could make her fly. This adoration continued. Now, however, the adoration is fading. 

Grace is crushed. She looked at me with disbelief in her big brown eyes. When we got home, I sat down and she crawled up into the chair with me. She looked positively depressed.

I had to explain to her that in this society being young is more important than the wisdom that elders have. I explained to her that humans ignore their elders, and make them feel like they don’t exist. Unlike the Chinese, for instance, who revere their elders, we Americans look away from our elderly. I explained that as she ages (she’s now 11) and due to no fault of her own, she, too, will be ignored. There will always be a puppy who, while no cuter than she is, it will, nevertheless, have the upper hand because of its age. 

It’s not fair, Grace told me. 

No, it’s not fair. But it is what it is.

Well, shame on anyone who believes that age should factor into whether I’m the cutest.

Yes, shame on us, I replied.

She felt a little better, but I could tell, she wasn’t ready to give up her title of the cutest Cocker Spaniel ever.

Lesson Learned

It is a shame to ignore an elderly person. Instead, when you see an elder - be it a human or a dog - give a smile and say hello. You will have made that person’s day because you didn’t treat her like she didn’t exist. The same can be true of dogs. They love the attention and pick up from your voice and pets that you think they’re special enough not to ignore.