So...

I'm back.  It was a busy week, not that I did anything exceptional.  I tried to stick to my normal routine, but since I was also dog sitting for my daughter, it was an added responsibility.  Dear dog, Rascal....I kept wanting to call her Patches....don't ask me why...is 15 years old, still gets around pretty well, but...you know me I'm an Ace of a Worry Wort.  I watched her like a hawk, didn't want anything to happen to her while she was in my care.

I discovered she had just about as many idiosyncrasies as I do, I guess that comes with old age...but certainly brought home (again) the fact I never want to have to live with any of my children.  I would drive them insane...even if they took turns looking after me.

Dear, dear Rascal.  She has one of those 'fatty growths' that comes with old age. Hers is on one side, mine is all over my body.  She's got this nerve problem where her right back leg suddenly stiffens up and shoots out behind her.  First time it happened, it scared the wits out of me.  I get leg cramps, really bad leg cramps that force me to extend my leg out straight too.  I hope her problem is nowhere near as painful as mine.  Just writing about this makes me get goose bumps.  Ouch, ouch, ouch.

Then, God love her, she has the 'Pacings'...she roamed, and roamed, and roamed. Up and down the hall, in and out of rooms, for hours, until she was so exhausted she flopped onto her bed and finally slept for hours, the tip of her tiny pink tongue hanging over her lower lip.  Me, well I don't roam, but when I'm finally at rest, I have to keep my hands busy, mostly I crochet.  But when I don't have a project going, I rip the label off my water bottle and play with it for hours.  I roll and unroll it, forming it into a cigarette, then hold it between my fingers. Seriously, I fiddle with it all evening.  It's ridiculous.  And as for my tongue hanging out when I sleep...I don't think I do that...but boy, do I drool.

I worried.  Mostly that she would fall and hurt herself.  I worry I'm going to fall and hurt myself...is it time I get myself one of those buttons to wear around my neck.  I worried she would get sick.  I worry about that for myself, I don't want to become a dependent.  I worried she might die.  Well....we all know eventually we have to walk into that...."good night".

She was funny.  In particular, if she wanted my attention, and I didn't respond quickly enough...she would sneeze.  At first, I thought it was just 'a sneeze' and I would say "bless you".  Then, after a few days I discovered it was deliberate.  Like if she wanted me to pet her, and I was ignoring her.  She would sneeze, and sneeze, and....sneeze.  Oh, in the morning she wanted me to get up and I was not ready, she would sneeze, sneeze....sneeze.  I can't think what I do as a similar thing, but I'm sure Frankie can think of several.

My dog sitting job came to an end yesterday afternoon.  Boy, Rascal was sure happy to see her owner.  She squealed and squealed in delight.  It was only after we were sitting in my living room for a while that I gave a long and sincere look at Rascal, there was something different about her. It took a bit to realize what it was. It was a simple thing really, I almost missed it. There was a shiny, bright look in her eyes, they had become alive.  During the week, they were dull, and almost black as bituminous coal.  Now they had a glossy sheen, like anthracite coal.  It was an amazing transformation.

And when it came to getting into the car for the ride home, I mean, there was no hesitation at all, she jumped in there like a six month old pup.  Happy, happy, happy was she.

All in all it was quite an experience.  Not only did I learn a lot from her, I learned a lot about me...I learned a lot about aging...it's not pretty folks...whether you're man or beast.