Old Dog, Old Tricks

    

     Riley, my shorty Jack Russell Terrier, will be fourteen this year. She's been with me since she was six weeks old. We've been through a lot together, and I can't imagine my life without her. Riley's slowed down some, after all, she's ninety-one in human years, but she's still tenacious, persistent, and very stubborn. These are some of the things I love about her! 

    She no longer has the strength to jump on or off the bed, so she "snarfs" relentlessly until I pick her up and put her wherever she wants to go. Recently, Riley's taken to snarfing between the hours of one and three in the morning, which is, of course, when I am in my deepest sleep. . . Her snarfing gets louder and louder until I force my eyes open, stumble down the stairs, and open the back door. She likes to stand in front of the open door, and blink at me until I shoo her out the door. And then it's back to bed we go.

    Riley has become my shadow; she follows me around the house, and around the farm when we're there. She no longer lets me out of her sight. I've noticed that when I move out of her line of sight, she gets a panicky look on her face and races around, looking for me.  I think it's because she doesn't hear so well anymore, and she uses her other senses to make up for her hearing loss. She's not completely deaf, but she can no longer hear the doorbell, loud noises, and footsteps. I've started using hand signals when I need her to go out, come, sit, or stay. I am not sure how much longer she'll be able to hear my voice, and I want to be sure she can still understand me and follow some basic commands. 

    According to my dad, Riley spends the entire school day nestled in her little gray bed. When the clock strikes three, she gets up, stretches, ambles into the hallway and parks herself by the front door, and waits.  We can't figure out how she knows that the school day is over and that I am on my way home. 

   In the evening, when I settle in to read or work or watch a movie, Riley snarfs until I pick her up and place her on the couch. She circles, scratches, squirms, and then pushes her small white body as close to mine as she possibly can. Then she sighs her deepest doggie sigh and falls asleep, content and loved. 

    


    


Comments

  1. There is no love like that of a dog. What a beautiful post about Riley- thank you for sharing!

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  2. Dogs are the best! I miss my dog every day!

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  3. Helen

    I loved my dog. She was everything that I ever wanted in a dog or a fur friend. I lost the privilege of having her because I couldn't take care of her. Your post reminded me of the good times. Thank you.

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  4. Dogs are seriously the best. Isn't it crazy that she waits for you? I can just imagine the contentment she feels at the end of day snuggled up to you. Safe and sound.

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