To my senior dog on his birthday.
To my senior dog, Kaslo, on your birthday,
Today you are another year older. Your muzzle is now home to more white hairs than brown, and your eyes have a slight glaze that highlights the wisdom you possess.
While the day you were born is supposed to be a celebration, I cannot help but feel sadness when I think about another year of your life passing us by. Your life expectancy is stunted compared to mine, and every day that passes brings us closer to the end of our road together.
Rather than focus on the ticking clock, I want to instead think about all the wonderful experiences we’ve shared, and the countless things you have taught me over the past twelve years.
How to adjust my expectations.
Kaslo, the first week we brought him home (he was around 4-5 months old here!)
When we welcomed you into our home and our hearts, I had big plans for you. The first, and likely the most important, lesson that you taught me was to be flexible. See, my plans were built for a specific kind of dog - the pro social, go anywhere, love everyone dog. The dog one might find in a Disney movie. My expectations for you were unreasonable for most dogs, but especially for you.
I quickly realized that you don’t want to be the ‘life of the party.’ You’re not the dog park guy, nor do you care to make new friends (you’re fine with the few you have). This was a tough and bitter pill for me to swallow. I, like many, assumed that if you did not partake in these types of activities, you would be “less of a dog”, or live an inadequate life. In reality, had I just stopped to listen to you, and what you wanted, I would have realized that the best thing I could do was grant you space from the situations that caused you stress.
This lesson took me far longer to learn than I like to admit, but I eventually learned to adjust my expectations. I changed the image I had in my mind for you, and started to create expectations that had your best interests at heart (not just my own).
Patience.
You were eighteen months old when you started to react towards dogs out on our walks. I didn’t understand what had happened to cause this change of heart, nor did I want to face the fact that you no longer wanted to be the social butterfly.
When I finally removed the blinders from my eyes, and realized what you were trying to communicate to me, I was able to then create a plan to help you be more comfortable in situations that were causing you stress.
Kaslo & Buster, 2017 (Photo by Tiffany Wilson Pet Photography.)
Working through your reactivity together was a marathon. There were days when it felt like we were never going to progress; when it felt like all we could do was flee when another dog popped up during a walk.
Our training journey was a true test of patience and resilience. You had the utmost patience with me, as I tried, failed, and tried again to figure out how best to support you.
You taught me to trust the process; to ask for help when I was struggling, and to not let my failures define me (this was harder than I ever imagined).
To enjoy the simple things.
With my first dog, Buster, I didn’t know much of anything. I remember the countless times that I would encourage or even pull him away from smelling while out on a walk because ‘we were walking’ and ‘ain’t nobody got time for that.’ Buster passed seven years ago, and I still regret rushing him every single day.
I have since learned to delight in the simple things. To stop and smell the roses (figuratively, and literally). Kaslo, you have taught me that there is nothing wrong in taking a minute to just be. To absorb the world around you, no matter how simple and redundant it might be.
Kaslo, 2019 (Photo by Tiffany Wilson Pet Photography.)
I’ve realized that there is so much joy in the things we have come to expect. No matter how many time I watch you furiously dig in the snow to better access a scent, it still makes my chest feel warm and fuzzy. You make me want to never take the little things for granted, because I know that one day soon, I would give anything to stop and watch you smell a lamp post for a short eternity.
Life with you has not been easy. There have been lessons learned, and many hardships suffered. You have your limits, and sometimes they can be challenging to accommodate - but so do I.
Sharing my life and heart with you as a senior dog has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. Each day that passes, I love you more and more. There is no limit to the number of photos I will sneak while you take a nap, and my heart never fails to skip a beat when your sleepy head seeks out my lap to rest on. I will continue to praise you for your “good stretch” every single time you perform one.
Kaslo, 2022 (Photo by Give a Dog a Bone Photography.)
My heart hurts with the amount of love and joy you have brought me. The flip side to that coin is the earth shattering grief that I know I will feel when you leave this world behind. I am aware that our time together is becoming more abbreviated by the day, but I refuse to waste the time we are gifted.
I promise you, my sweet boy, that whenever we can go adventure we will.
I will never regret taking you out for a walk, even when it’s -21C and I can’t feel my face, or when I am overwhelmed with things I have to do at home.
I will do everything in my power to bring you joy, and comfort in your remaining time here on this Earth. I will love you, I will advocate for you, I will provide you with as much attention as I am physically capable of, and I will lock these memories and moments in the vault of my mind so that I always have them to reflect upon.
To my senior dog: thank you for making me a better person.
Thank you for teaching me unconditional love.
Thank you for not being the dog I wanted, but the dog I desperately needed.
Happy birthday Kaslo, my heart dog, and one of the greatest loves of my life.
To you, my lovely reader, give your dog some extra love today. And don’t forget to stay awesome.
Vanessa
Vanessa Charbonneau, is the author of Dog Care for Puppies: A guide to Feeding, Playing, Grooming and Behavior. She owns Sit Pretty Pet Services, employing force-free training techniques to work with companion dogs and their owners. Charbonneau lives in Prince George, BC with her husband, two daughters, and one dog.