Jack

Jack. Jack. Jack. My dog has given me 17 amazingly fun and often chaotic years of life.  As of this writing she is still chugging along.  It probably won’t be much longer.  She is showing all the signs of being near the end of life.  Vomiting, as her digestive system shuts down, slow breathing, as her heart and lungs begin to shut down, lethargy, weakness, and no longer responding to my voice or actions.

 I am trying my best to give her dignity in her death.  I am trying not to treat her differently, maybe what I mean is I am trying not to show her that I am struggling to even watch her struggle.  It pains me to see her stand herself up on wobbly legs, then walk even a small distance on those legs.  I don’t want her to think I see her any differently than I always have.  My fierce, fun, slightly terroristic little dog.   However, what I see now, is my best friend still trying to do her best.  

So I think, do I see her differently?  Am I treating her differently? What should I do?  I don’t want to help her too much because she has always been so independent.  That said, I can’t just let her wobble on those little legs.  I still see her as a tough little dog so I don’t want to be disrespectful to her and offer too much help.  Then it occurs to me, she is not 2 anymore.  She is 17.  She is not 7; she is 17.  She is not 15; she is 17.  Just help her.  She has always helped me more than I could ever say.  She has seen me through many of life’s tough times.  So, yes, I am going to help her.  We are going to do this together, just like we have done everything else. 

I have been thinking a lot about aging.  It seems like one day Jack was 3, running around like a maniac, swimming in every creek, lake, or mud puddle she could find.  Then she was 15, still doing the same, and I thought, this dog will live forever, heck maybe we can go grab a beer at the bar together when she hits 21. 

How does that time fly by?  And how did I not see her age?  I think about all the things I could have, would have, and maybe should have done.  I don’t like second guessing myself. It is my stubborn want to “always be right.”    It is one of my worst characteristics.  (I have many!)  So here is what I think.  I think many times we say things like “they do that because…” or “they act like this because…” or “they know better than…”    However, maybe just maybe, it is because we forget that as we age things change.  What is important to us also changes.  Activities we used to enjoy go to the wayside.  We care about new things.  It’s not a bad thing that happens.  It is just age.  I think the bad thing that does happen though, is people, and dogs, are unique.  We age differently.  Some of us may be sprightly into our 90’s, others may start feeling 90 at 40.  The difficulty lies in how to tell which person feels every bit of their age and which person doesn’t.  We expect people to be able to keep up with whatever pace we set for ourselves.  Many do, however some start falling behind.  Rather than thinking “hmm, they may be slowing down with age,” we think “they are being lazy.”   Maybe we need to step back and look at the big picture.  We aren’t 16 anymore. Neither are the people we support.  We say “we will meet them where they are at.”  Harder said than done.  We forget that just last year they were 30 and this year they are 68.  Their ISP said that when they were 24 and living at home they liked to do word searches.  We don’t do the age progression in our head.  We don’t do the math.  We look at their record and compare it to the person.  When they don’t do what is in their historical data we assume malaise or indifference.  Perhaps it is just age.  

I said before, Jack is 17, and up until about 3 months ago, no one ever believed me when I told them her age.  Most would shake their head and say “I heard those Jack Russell terriers live forever.”  At the time I would say, “Oh we are planning on it.” Now I just think “yes, I wish they did.”