Life with The Big Guy

The Big Guy is a 'senior senior.' I work with 3 vets to integrate his care, and their best guess is that he's 'between 14 and 16.' This is o-l-d for a big dog.

New owners expect to put time and energy into raising a puppy. The same amount of energy and effort goes into helping an old dog retire to heaven with grace and dignity. It's hard to watch my beloved boy becoming frail and weak. His life is more and more circumscribed, his world smaller and smaller.

When he was a young buck, there were times when he'd take himself for a walk and be gone for 3 or 4 hours. I'd be sick with worry, envisioning him being hit by a car, or stuck in a trap, or shot by an unfriendly neighbor. I'd also be aggravated, annoyed that he wasn't The Perfect Dog.

What I would give to have The Big Guy at that level of glorious, robust health again. His spine, hips, and knees are all degenerating. Now he has difficulty rising. Just as bad, if not worse, he has problems lying down. When I'm here it's easy to help him get up (especially with his spiffy new harness). It's not as easy to help him lie down.

Since he's loosing control of his hind end, I have to watch him like a hawk when he's outside. I won't allow him out of sight. If he gets stuck in a snow drift or caught up in bushes and falls over, he cannot rise without help.

He's lost control of his bowels. Poop just comes out, whether he's walking or lying down. Thanks to his new improved diet, the amount of poots is tiny for a large dog, but it still needs to be cleaned up. This is not fun when he's got an upset stomach. Diarrhea can get *everywhere*

Deafness is another issue. He's stone cold deaf. He doesn't hear the food bowls clattering when I'm preparing meals. He can't hear me call him, he can't hear cars.

Last night, for the first time, he pee-ed in the house. This is probably my fault, since I didn't make him get up to go out when The Little Princess relieved herself half way through the evening. It's hard to force him to get up, especially when he's comfortably ensconced in bed, and sleeping heavily.

As much as I dislike living with undone floors and ratty rugs, last night showed the wisdom of not putting in expensive new flooring. Until he's gone, the floor stays undone, and the ratty carpet stays on the stairs.

Despite all this, The Big Guy (now being called 'The Old Man') still loves his life. He loves to be groomed and petted and fussed over. He still loves to (try to) bait the Little Princess into play. He still wants me to vacuum him when I'm cleaning up dog hair. Food is still manna. He's thrilled when his various aunties and uncles come to visit. He wants to take his twice daily walks, although they're at a snail's pace. He still woo's from time to time. Despite the shrinking quantity of his life, he still has quality of life.

When that delicate balance shifts, I'll release him. I pray to the God of Akitas I know the exact nanosecond that it occurs.