Our Girl

Old dog Zoe is slowing down. It takes her longer to want to go out. She is very healthy, just getting old at nearly 95 in “people years.” A young guy stopped me last evening. He said she was the best dog in the neighborhood and stopped to pet her.

He asked how old she is, 13.5 years, and when we got her, the day she turned six weeks old. They gave us one of those cardboard boxes and she jumped out, I threw the box into the back and she sat on my lap with the window cracked about two inches and she sniffed the breeze and has loved being in a car ever since. It’s called “going with.”

We went through a lot with her, getting her hips removed due to severe dysplasia and growing her own from cartilage and physical therapy (my husband used to sneak her into pools) and I walked her as was advised by her surgeon.

The guy I met asked her breed(s) and where we got her. He said if he could have a dog like Zoe for nearly 14 years he’d get one like her immediately. Yeah, me too, I should lend her out so he can get a girlfriend and get married! They can get a dog. I always said dog before kids, I need to see how bad my husband is with a dog before we have a kid. He’s horribly good, the fun and walk guy. I’m the food wench and disciplinarian. When I leave to run errands, she sits at the door awaiting my return. She is happy to see him return from a week across the country or world.

I think we may do her DNA test and see what other breeds she has in her fascinating, herding, staring at us for what she wants, Kong, personality. It’s nearly six in the morning and she’s UBD (Under Bed Dog) as in summer, the sun comes up early so she goes underneath to get her beauty sleep. At 95, she looks better than me! Heel! Dee



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