My dog Ace and I are the same age.
In dog years, anyway.
He’s aging faster than me, of course, but for a short time, we’re both at the same point in our journey.
The similarities are a bit disturbing. Neither of us is as strong and fast as we used to be. We’re both easily confused, and we share a multitude of aches and pains.
Pushing my way through the cattails yesterday I tripped over Ace and we fell in a tangle. After exchanging a few heated words we picked ourselves up, dusted off the snow and proceeded as if nothing had happened.
To make matters worse, this all happened as we followed in the wake of a young dog full of boundless energy. Dot makes us both feel old.
Not yet two, the pup is a bulldog in thick cover, never tires, and adores Ace, who barely tolerates her.
Old dogs, just like old people, can be a bit grumpy
Back at the house Ace retired to his spot on the couch, and I went upstairs to take a hot bath. He was snoring loudly when I returned. Later that evening we both took a pill and went to sleep.
Like me, despite how worn out he appears after a hunt, he’ll be ready to do it again the next day.
We’re nearing the end of a four-month season during which we hunted more days than not, and he hasn’t missed a day yet.
Never a hard charger, Ace has always paced himself, but watching him limp off to bed last night, there’s no doubt that the end of his days afield is near.
So too, I suppose is mine.
And while I’m not aging as fast as him, I can see what’s coming. He’s got another season or two in him at the most. Me? Who knows?
There’s at least one more dog I’m going to try and keep up with, but our ages won’t match until I’m 80.
I sure hope she slows down by then.
I know I will.
All I have to do is look at Ace. There was a time we were the same age.
Parker Heinlein is at [email protected]
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