I love irony and I like to share it when I notice it. Yesterday I realized a great irony about me and my dog, and hence it seems like this is the place to mention it. But, I need to give some background on me and my old dog first. Keep in mind that I live alone with her.
About 3 years ago, my 12 year old dog (she is 15 now) got to the point where she could not walk without some assistance. I needed to use a sling to give her just a little bit of help getting up and balancing. She did most of the work then. Over time, she got worse and at this point I need to lift her entire back-end for her to walk around. But after 3 years of her training me, we work well together and my arms are very strong now because she weighs 90 pounds (all muscle from her rottweiler/German-shepherd father ).
She loves to stay outside and hates to be inside. This has always been true and with her thick fur (from her golden retriever mother), she can tolerate any amount of cold without a problem. Whatever level of cold you believe no dog can tolerate, I assure you she can do that and better. Now that she is old, I will sometimes bring her inside on the most cold days, but she hates me for it. I get scared that her old brain might not know what is best for her.
I have now built her a big outdoor dog house with heated water bowl, heating pad, wood floor, plexiglass sides and insulation with a blanket that drapes over the big entrance and keeps heat in. Oh and a lamp and radio are in there too. She rarely wants to be in it unless it is very, very cold, or if it's raining because she really hates the rain. Most other times, if I put her in it, she will drag herself out. But, this process assures me she feels warm enough and keeps her front legs strong.
I force her to stay in my house when I go to work, but she is outside most all other times and she destroys my house daily to punish me for keeping her inside, but I have no options. I have to work and I can't risk leaving her outside. So be it. At least I still have her, so I don't complain about that.
But, over time, as she gets older, weaker, and more needy, I've gotten to the point where it is easier for me to stay outside with her and lately I even sleep outside in the doghouse so I can instantly get up and help her with whatever she needs. This might seem crazy, but actually the doghouse is more comfortable (imagine a tent rather than a dog house) than my house because I removed most of my furniture, as she was biting it to pieces. Strangely, I sleep better and wake up feeling much better.
Anyway, please don't feel bad for me and also please don't chastise me for being a crazy person. It's all good, as far as I'm concerned, and I'm just doing the best I can in a difficult situation. I'm thankful that at least I've figured out ways to adapt without having to put down my dog, who is still happy (when she is outside) and not in pain despite her age and disability.
But, now to the irony. Yesterday, I just realized that my dog spends a lot more time in my house than I do. And I spend a lot more time in her dog house than in my house and also more time in her house than she does. In a sense, I've become the doggie, and she the human. Somehow this happened so gradually that I didn't realize it, and now that I'm realizing the distance traveled to get into this state, I'm stunned.
One day (I think soon) I will go back to being a normal human, but I rue that day because it will be the first day after my best friend has left me. But, there is comfort in knowing that two fighters kept that day at bay for as long as possible, and there will be no regrets.
