Thursday, September 4, 2008

The grand old dame turns thirteen today...

Do you realize that’s NINETY-ONE in dog years? Shelley has been with us longer than Rea, and Syd was a tiny girl of only three when we brought her home.

Shell spends her days sleeping either in the office upstairs or in our bathroom on the cool tile floor. She suffers from arthritis and has an unusual rolling gait these days; we have to lift her in and out of the car, but she still likes to go when she gets the chance.

Last week she did make an attempt at chasing her old archenemy, the UPS truck. But her heart really wasn't in it. She was in the front yard doing her "business", the truck went by and it was what she was supposed to do, but I don't think she cares anymore.

I can’t decide if she’s losing her hearing or just becoming incredibly stubborn in her old age – I think it’s the latter. I guess when you get to be ninety-one you do what you damn well please.

Maybe even drive a golf cart.

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