Ode to an old dog
By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist
Old Lady Sadie,
How glad we are to know you.
Your curly black coat looks particularly suiting for such a gentle-womanly dog of advanced years. Yes, you remind me of how my mother used to dress in her Sunday going to church clothes when I was a little girl scurrying along the sidewalk beside her. I member her seamed stockings and her coat that hung just past her knees, and how she wore her perfectly fitting church gloves, the same way you wear four perfectly matching brown stockings on your feet.
Old Lady Sadie,
How glad we are to know you.
You came to us on the call of a friend, who let us know that you'd been found tumbling out the back door of a van that sped off down the road. We went to meet you, and you leaned into our touch, and we brought you home. You learned to respect our creek valley ways, milling easily among the chickens, goats, and horses, and you learned about the joys of creek valley walks, even though you never did venture into the water. You followed us everywhere, but waited on the shore when we went exploring across the creek.
Old Lady Sadie,
How glad we are to know you.
You are no fool! In your advancing years, you have learned that it is far easier, when heading up the hill to the cabin, to walk in a zig-zag line. This way your path is not quite so steep, and when you reach the top, you know that you will always find us waiting, no matter how many times you might have paused to catch your breath.
And of course, you know that we will give you a treat whenever we open the door to let you inside the cabin, even though you have recently become rather portly and you really don't need any treats. We understand, as does your vet, that an old lady such as yourself, need no longer worry about doggish beauty and perfect health, and that at your advanced age, you are absolutely entitled to your treats and desert. We are so grateful that you have continued on, in your very own way, long past any of our expectations.
Old Lady Sadie,
How glad we are to know you.
You still lean into our legs with your own special hugs. You still sit close by our sides, even annoyingly under our feet, but we would never push you away. You look up into our eyes, your own eyes now dimmed with grey, yet still with such absolute trust.
Old Lady Sadie,
We sadly know that you don't understand why it has become too difficult for you to run after creek valley creatures, and why you need to get up and go outside in the middle of the night, or why you sometimes even choose to wait for us at the top of the hill when we go for creek valley walks. On occasion, we have even decided to forgo our walk or if we do leave, we make sure that you are lying comfortably on your bed by the door, or stretched out lazily in the sunshine, on the pine needles under the tall tree in front of the cabin. You seem to love the way the sun warms your black coat, and I love how wonderful you smell after a pine needle nap.
Old Lady Sadie,
We know that you know that things just aren't quite the same anymore, but we also know that you know that we love you. You know that we will always stay close by your side, just as you have stayed by ours all these years. We are ever so thankful for you, and for every single day that we have been a part of your doggish ways.
Old Lady Sadie,
We love you.
Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in Ohio south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.