I found out recently, that my dog and are the same age. A couple of weeks ago on our moonlit walk she dug her nose into the grass and a yellow jacket probably bit her- her entire face blew up and she was panting loudly. We called, then drove to our local Vet ER. While she was in the back of the Veterinarian office getting her IV prednisone to reduce the swelling, I sat out in the dark.,quiet waiting room reading all the pet and doggy magazines that existed. I read a chart stating that my Dot, English Springer Spaniel, who is soon to be 9 years old will finally be considered a mature dog and will be 51 years old. Here I thought the big 5-0 was the age to celebrate but no 51. I knew that this dog was my guidance her on earth.
This is not the first time we've shared things. When my sister said we could adopt Dot (formally known as 3-Spot) 8 3/4 years ago she was the third child I never had. I held her and babied her just like she was my baby. I shared my last blast of motherhood with that dog.
Two years ago we got sick on the same day. I remember doubling over with abdominal pain in the Veterinarian oncology office when they told us she had a tumor in her jaw. They next day I ended up in the ER ,then admitted for diverticulitis. Then 2 weeks later Dot had her surgery to remove 1/3 of her lower jaw of a potentially malignant tumor.
You would never know that dog is almost nine. She is spry and leaps and is "on the hunt" pointing trying to act like a hunting dog. I am not sure if others see me as spry but I feel better now than I did in my forties. That dog is my rock and my GOD (dog spelled backwards) and we have shared joy, pain and now midlife. Patty