It's hell getting old. My mind thinks I'm still 22. My body, not so much.
But even though it's hell, there's something that's worse. My dog is getting old.
This is not what my pup looked like 12 years ago, but he was just as cute.
Now he's getting old, and neither of us are sleeping well. He forgets where he is and where I am, so he howls this lonely call in the middle of the night. It breaks my heart. I try to sleep through it, but I can't. So I go to him.
Then he'll sleep for a few hours, and so will I. And even though I'm right there next to him, he'll still wake and howl to me, looking for comfort.
I used to be able to call to him to say that I'm right here, it's OK.
But now he's deaf, too. And my call fades away, worthless and empty.
So I get out of bed, and I walk to him, rub his head, calm him as best I can. And once he remembers that I'm here, that he's home, he goes back to sleep.
In two hours, we do the dance again. And it's exhausting both of us.
So we'll get old together, at least for a little while, until we reach the day that we won't. And then I'll be the one howling.