When Worlds Collide

Simba is my "old gal."  She will be 14 years old as of Halloween 2011.  She's a full golden retriever and I've had her since she was a pup.  We have a lot of history between us, this gal and I.  And, while I was lucky enough to have another before her who I felt was "special" (Trapper, who I honestly believe to have been an old soul), she also has shown herself to be another "special one," though in a different way. 

This sweet gal has made me laugh and cry through the years, but the one thing that has remained constant has been her indomitable spirit and her complete, unconditional love and trust. 

A couple of years ago she had two ACL repair surgeries six months apart.  My husband, Pete, and I were amazed at how quickly she bounced back.  She was bounding after squirrels in the backyard like a two-year-old.  And then, a year later, it started.  Her bounding turned to running, then to a slow jog.  The physical decline into old age suddenly became glaringly apparent.  We hated it, but accepted it as part of life. She had some arthritis, but still had a good quality of life, enjoying the daily walks and tolerating her much younger sibling, Belle's constant plaguing to play with good grace.

Eventually, however, the mental decline began.  It started with the occasional spate of "crazy barking" in the living room when I was down the hall working in my office.  The occasional became daily.  I tried Rescue Remedy, a homeopathic anxiety reliever.  It helped some, but not totally.  I began encouraging her to join me in my office along with Belle and the cat, Elwood,  Having her "pack" around her, minus Daddy, seemed to help. 

Things seemed to stabilize for a while; however, it has become abundantly clear to me lately that she is slipping slowly away from me mentally.  It becomes harder and harder to penetrate the world of canine dementia that I call "Simba's World" each day. 

Bit by bit, day by day, the world of reality seemed to recede, and the world of canine dementia took hold.  Phrases that once elicited enthusiasm and happy tail wags now no longer seem to mean much to her.  "Go for a ride," "go for a walk" and "go to the lake" no longer seem to register.  "Go to the lake" has always been an extremely exciting phrase for her, making her run and prance and wag her tail.  Today, she just lay there totally unresponsive. 

She seems to slip further into her own little world daily.  It breaks my heart.  I know, at 14 years old, she has had a good life, and way beyond what a lot of dogs live.  Still, it pains me to see her slip a little further away each day.  But I am determined to enjoy the time left, not waste it with worries of what will inevitability come.

This blog is a way for me to  celebrate the joys of Simba's life, while at the same time trying to deal with the decline of a loyal friend. 

Simba, thank you for the years of love and laughter you have given me, and may your remaining time in my life be all that you so richly deserve.