Living With A Senior Dog
Delgado, age 13.5, running through the leaves in our yard last October.
One of my friends said “goodbye” to her senior dog this week 😢. Condolences led to a conversation about how our lives have revolved around caring for our senior dogs in the past couple of years. As my friend said, “People say puppies are hard. Puppies are so easy compared to seniors.”
Knowing all the ways that she had adjusted her life around caring for her senior dog, I knew it was a safe space to admit that I’ve been sleeping on the couch with Delgado for the better part of a year. Sometimes he paces at night, and I was terrified that he’d walk off the edge of the bed while I slept. The combination of senility (canine cognitive dysfunction) along with his Librela-induced delusions of invincibility made it seem like more of a probability than a possibility.
The elaborate arrangement of pillows, trunks and pet stairs that keep my senior chihuahua safe from falling off the couch.
My fears are not unfounded. He gets down off the couch using stairs to go pee on the puppy pad or get a drink of water a couple of times a night. He also falls off unintentionally at least a couple of times a week, but an elaborate arrangement of ottomans, trunks, doggy stairs, and cushions keeps him from getting broken when it happens.
Half a dozen yoga mats and 2 washable “Ruggable” rugs create slip-proof paths for Delgado to navigate through the house. We tried carpet runners, but Iris pees on them as fast as we put them down. That’s a whole separate issue 😒 for a different blog post 😂!
The “dog couch” in the kitchen, with more stairs, cushions and yoga mats for traction.
It’s hard to watch our spicy little demon dog fade into a docile shell. We have to guard him as he eats, to prevent Iris and Shazam! from stealing his food. Occasionally, his “old self” will come through and he’ll chase them off on his own, but more often, he stands aside and lets them eat his food, then he licks his empty bowl after they’ve left.
Sometimes it’s like someone flipped an “off” switch inside his head. He’ll be walking along, going about his business, and then just suddenly stop and stand frozen for several seconds, staring into space, then he’ll shake his head and carry on as though nothing happened. Kind of like he’s forgotten why he walked into the room or went outside.
Recently, we had two separate sets of houseguests, with barely any reaction and zero terrorizing from Delgado. Anyone who ever came to visit us in the past will know what a dramatic change THAT is. One morning, after Graham’s parents had been here for a few days, he started barking at them when they walked into the room. Graham’s mom said, “Isn’t that funny, that he’s barking at us NOW, after being fine the past three days”! I said “today, he’s having a GOOD day and remembering to behave like himself”!
Perhaps the hardest part is that, while he was always such an a**hole with everyone ELSE, he was the sweetest, cuddliest dog with US. Now, though he still wants to be near me all the time, he rarely allows us to pet him, and not for more than a few seconds if he does.
We all know how this ends, and I’ve watched this same decline in human loved ones. When my favourite Aunt was almost completely non-verbal in late-stage Alzheimer’s, the only thing that could still get a reaction, and sometimes even a full sentence, was when I would take Becca to visit her. She’d laugh and say “she’s so cute”, over and over.
Those moments where his old personality shines through are becoming as rare and precious with Delgado, but as long as I still have those occasional signs that he’s still in there, I’m here to support him.
I don’t share all of this because I’m looking for a medal or accolades for adjusting my life to accommodate my senior dog. It’s a privilege to be able to do this for him. I’m thankful to have had him with us for long enough to GET old. (Suddenly losing a 6-year-old cat to hypertrophic cardiomyopathy taught me just how much we can’t take the gift of these senior years for granted).
I share because even after 25 years as a vet tech and 7 as a full-time pet photographer, even after all the extraordinary dog lovers I’ve known as colleagues, friends, and clients, I felt relief being able to share how much living with a senior dog was impacting our lives, with someone I knew would understand. And I thought that if I felt that way, probably some of you do, too.
So, to anyone who is sleeping on a mattress on their dining room floor because their dog can’t do stairs anymore; or who can’t go away on a proper vacation because they can’t leave their senior dog; or who regularly drives hundreds of kms for appointments with veterinary specialists; or who spends many thousands on treatments, surgeries, medications, special diets, (or pet portraits, for that matter!) - I’m here and I see you. You’re not crazy. You’re not alone. You are the best kind of person, and you love a senior dog.
