Yes Baloo, I'm here Baloo, it's OK Baloo! What's up?! I call from the kitchen for the umpteenth time this morning, down tools and go to find him. He's lying on his bed looking around, desparate to locate me. Momentarily he panics and gives out a plaintive bark. I imagine he's saying "Mummy where are you? I'm afraid. I need comfort".
You see, these days Baloo can't hear much, has poor eyesight, forgets where he is and easily gets confused; sometimes we can be standing right next to him and he's lost in his own world calling for us.
"I'm here Baloo. It's OK."
I put his favourite toy Olav on his bed, show him the "stay" hand signal, mouth stay, smile and try to leave the room. Three steps into the kitchen and "whoof!" The whole process repeats and repeats and repeats until, as this morning, I abandon the kitchen chores, grab a broom and swish around the lounge to the music I have put on to calm him.
As a young dog he always loved to dance with me so this can go one of two ways; he'll either get excited and try to jiggle on his crumbling, wobbly frame or he'll be lulled to sleep.
Today it seems to calm him and I gradually sweep my way out of the room... And the whoof echos around the house once more. I sigh and return to brush the room again in the hope that the familiar moves will relax him. I call his doggy sister and brother to stay on their beds with him thinking that will help. It doesn't.
My next strategy is to bring my chores to him. I drag the recycling box into the adjoining dining room to sort it ready for pick up. I position myself in Baloo's line of sight so he knows where I am. And, then he starts his cute, puppy-style ear rubbing, wiggling himself awake until he is facing the wall, can't see me and the whoof reverberates around the room.
This has been going on since 7am. It's now 10am and there's a trail of unfinished jobs; a half tidied kitchen, partially folded washing, a pile of unsorted recyclables, an unmade bed, curtailed plant watering, the remnants of an exercise routine cut short and, of course, I've yet to dress for the day or tackle my list of things to do. I'm typing this sitting on the sofa with Baloo and Olav at my feet. My other half has gone to do our weekly shop.
All is calm. It appears I am Baloo's captive for the rest of the day. He's got what he wanted; me with him. All part of his master plan perhaps. And that's just fine. He's been by my side for 13 years raising a smile and giving joy and support to whoever needs it. As he slips gracefully into his twilight months it's the least I can do for him.
Baloo is rapidly approaching his 100th human year equivallent and that brings with it all the frailties of a senior dog - dodgy legs, suspect digestion, reduced mental capacities and a litany of minor ailments and associated medications. Sounds awfully similar to human aging doesn't it?
I never knew Baloo as a puppy and its strange to see puppy-like behaviours in his old age; oh how he loves to wiggle on his back in the sun, luxuriating in the sensation of the grass on his skin.
Sometimes I catch him rubbing his tired eyes with his paws which escalates to a supercharged ear scratch and head shake as if to say "I have floppy things on my head?!" Then there's his super excitment at the prospect of a walk and stratospheric joy at meal times - we all take cover as food is sent flying by his messy eating habits.
If the truth be told, it's exhausting. I'm up and down and in and out to him 100s of times a day. Occassionally we can't get to him and hear the panic rising in the pitch and tone of his bark; it's heart breaking.
He never was much of a barker but now I know all of his different sounds; the excitment bark, the warning bark, the worried bark, the distressed bark, the paniced bark, the happy to see you bark, the what's going on? bark. Together we're learning a new language and a way of being.
His life is still rich. We have senior proofed the house so he doesn't slip-slide around and can navigate more easily. He has his own recently refurbished ramp to get in and out of the house with dignity. He gets immense joy from twice daily walks and like clockwork he'll remind us when it's medicine, treat or meal time - just how does he do that?!
I know the number of days ahead are diminishing but while he's still happy and enjoying life, he can be the grand old gentleman he is with his dignified eyebrows and distinuguished jaw line.
Oh and he can bark for me as much as he wants. Here's to many more half-finished kind of days!
#seniordogsrock #oldiebutgoodie
