Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – August 30, 2004
Augie Is Getting Older
Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – August 30, 2004 – Not only am I right smack dab in the heart of my 50’s – but Augie has snuck right past middle age. In human years he’s now seventy – ten doggie years. I find it hard to believe he has shared my heart and my home for five years, and harder still to believe that anyone gave him up – simply turned their back and walked away from this precious little soul.
For selfish reason I’m glad they did, otherwise I’d have missed the joy of his companionship. As I sit here at my computer, Augie is lying on his back on my office floor with his feet in the air. His back legs are sticking straight up and his front legs are bent at the joint. He’s wearing his blue bandana today – the red one is it the laundry, and his ever-present grin is firmly in place.
He has another new fatty tumour on his side and a growth on one front foot. He’s been acquiring these little lumps and bumps on his body for three years now. They aren’t anything to worry about and Augie could care less. They don’t slow him down in the least and he’s totally comfortable with his dashing good looks, lumps and all. Augie, like all British Bull Terriers is incredibly homely, but his dazzling personality makes him adorable. I don’t think I have ever known a happier dog.
When he gets up in the morning he does his usual lunges and stretches and then has a good roll around the floor on his back, followed by a hearty shake. Now it’s time to venture down the hallway. Since he developed his fear of hardwood floors, he proceeds with caution. Some mornings he’s quite brave and he walks forward, but most mornings he backs up. Once he arrives at the top of the stairs he thunders down the steps like a knight charging off to battle.
But it’s big trouble again at the bottom – more wood floor. It’s quite the ordeal getting Augie from the stairs to the back door for his morning walk. He does a combination backward walk, full-circle twirl and belly crawl, accompanied by a few pitiful howls, to get to the kitchen door. Once he has crept over the threshold to the back (wood) deck he does a magnificent leap through the air from the upper level to the lower deck, I think in part to redeem his cowardly image. Then it’s on to the back gate to await his collar and leash. Tail wagging like mad – eyes sparkling.
We go for our morning jaunt and Augie bops along enthusiastically, but not as briskly as he used to. When I first adopted him from The Humane Society he could chew up the sidewalk for an hour walk without ever missing a beat. He had a bad infection in one of his front feet about three years ago and now he ends up with a limp if he walks for more than fifteen or twenty minutes at a time. He’s slowing down.
He sleeps more than he used to and his hearing isn’t as sharp as it once was. He snores like a boatload of punch-drunk sailors and his morning breath could stop a freight train, but Augie is the most loyal, loving, quirky, sweet-natured, funny animal I have ever known.
Fate brought us together, but he had enough faith to trust again after being abandoned. Augie gives me the gifts of love and laughter every day. He finds joy in every hour, lives in the moment and is wise beyond his years. Dogs know and understand absolutely – they know what life is all about.
