walking with an old dog

[SoloRiver]

Solo is ten years old, and the only old dog I’ve ever lived with. Fly is actually older than Solo, but she seems younger than Solo as she’s in better shape and still hurtling through the world. Solo, by contrast, is a long-retired prizefighter, grave and mellow and carrying the scars of his previous lives within a burly and slowly failing body. The aftermath of an old injury, incurred before I knew him, ruined his right hip, and the ways he has altered his gait over the years to compensate for his hip have corrupted his back. When he was young, when I first knew him, Solo was fast and strong and inexorable, and I kind of thought of him as the Incredible Hulk: intellectually brilliant, mentally unstable, and physically indestructible. But now he is stiff and damaged and deliberate, although his physical presence still evokes a feeling of threat and power, like the big hands and swollen knuckles of an old man who remembers how to tie on a pair of boxing gloves.

 

I like taking Solo for walks alone now, without the other two dogs, now that we have the luxury of a yard and everyone doesn’t have to go every time we go out. Walking Solo is a particular pleasure because Solo has never been allowed to run ahead of me on walks – it isn’t wise, as his reputation for bad-assedness is not undeserved – so he has always walked right beside me, and I can just reach down a smidge with my hand as I walk and touch his soft, rumpled ears. It’s almost as good as holding hands. No, actually, it’s probably better.

 

When we walk it’s like old times, before the other two dogs came along, except that the walks we take are different now. When Solo was young, he and I looked for big, open expanses that lent themselves to long throws, places where he could run flat out, and where I could see in all directions in case anyone else came along. Now that he is old, and slow, and doesn’t worry so much about passers-by anymore, we take pointless meandering walks through cluttered terrain, where there is a lot to poke your nose into and plenty of sign to sniff. Solo shuffles along and reads every single tree, signs a lot of them, and I don’t prod him to hurry and catch up because without the other two shooting off ahead of us, there’s no need. We don’t play ball much anymore, because I am afraid I will break him if I do. Our walks are more interesting now. I stop and look around. I watch squirrels chase each other through the branches. I peek up at the sky through the trees, and sometimes I see eagles.

 

Solo loves to go with us when we gather chanterelles deep in the forest, because we’re all going nose to the ground, searching, doing just what he does. I’ll look up from a promising spot under the pine needles, and Solo will be there, smiling at me, waving his gallant tail gently. “Isn’t this great!” I like taking him to look for mushrooms because there are never any other people out there and we can go where we please. Sometimes I walk him in a cemetery on campus that is in the process of being overgrown and forgotten (most of the residents there died during the early 1900s), and we encounter other cemetery walkers there. When we do, I alter our trajectory a little so that Solo doesn’t have to encounter them, just in case. There was a time when I would have been ashamed of doing this, because it is an admission that even after almost ten years together I have failed to fix him and that Solo still has his demons. But you know what, I don’t care about that anymore. Solo has nothing left to prove to me or anyone else.

 

One of the luxuries of getting old is that people finally accept you for exactly what you are. I don’t know if it’s because people are more tolerant of the aged out of respect, or because people just don’t expect anything of the aged because they think the aged are too old to change. Either way, I have stopped worrying about all of the things that Solo is not. I have always loved him for exactly who he is, but I no longer look ahead to some indistinct point in the future when he will be better than he is now. I just enjoy him. Solo acts as though he understands literally everything I say; I would not be surprised if he actually does. I believe that this level of connection is something that comes only after you have been with a dog for a long time, and when that dog is old.

 

It will be very difficult to watch Solo fail in the years to come, as I know he will, but we are enjoying the last evening light together, that glorious golden light that comes just before sunset, late in summer, just as the days are beginning to shorten. May it be a very long summer evening, and a very, very slow sunset.

[urge to herd]

Melanie, your essay brings a tear, it's so very similar to what I have with Samantha. She and Shonie have opposite walking styles: Shonie is on a mission, by god, and the mission is to take the walk and get back home and then do whatever's next. Sam is much more like Solo, contemplative almost, everything gets sniffed and re-sniffed and comparatively sniffed.

 

It's a delight for me, and I know for Sam, when we go off by ourselves. I still take Sami for a game of fetch 2 or 3 mornings a week, just her and me. She can run straight fairly well, it's the turns and stops that overtake her. In the dog park we go to at 6 am, there's plenty of room for long, easy to see the ball against the grass fetching. She runs, not as tight or fast or low to the ground as she used to, but she still lights up, and she so obviously loves it, that I love it right along with her.

 

When it was just her and me, I didn't know how special our time together was. I wouldn't trade my life with BuzzBoy or Shonie for anything, but it makes me wish there were more hours in the day, every day, more years to look forward to.

 

I pray along with you, for a very long summer evening, and a slow and easy sunset.

 

Ruth

[Elizabeth77]

Wonderful. What a talent for description you have ; having read this I went to read more about Solo and loved the account of his first swim. My Meg is exactly the same and wants to keep four paws on the ground, she also very occasionally does the butterfly doggy stroke you describe for Solo.

I am going back to read more.

I wish you and Solo many more strolls and please tell us about them .

[ejano]

A beautiful, beautiful piece...there is the Cup of Comfort series of books that is always looking for new material, though they solicit for one or two collections at a time. They have a series for dog lovers -- my neighbor has a piece in the newest one.

 

Regards,

Liz

[Ooky]

That is so beautiful, Melanie. What a lovely essay. It reminds me so much of hiking with my family's dog Calvin in his later years. I felt like I grew up on those hikes, in my mid-late 20s, taking time and looking around at everything. Remembering when he was so fast and amazingly sure-footed and enamored of heights, back when we were on hikes in my teens. I would just feel this massive love for him and the sweet, slow, thoughtful hikes we had found together -- even while being nostalgic for his previous rock-scrambling self.

 

A good essay can do that, like a smell - evoke such strong memory. Thanks for sharing.

[ShoresDog]

When I got Daisy in January 2005, she was about 1 or 1.5 years old, the vet thought. I had never had a border collie before. So I did what I do when I'm in a situation I don't know much about -- I searched and I read. One of the things I found was a site you created about your dogs when you lived back east. Reading it, I felt like I'd met each dog and kind of knew them. I mourned your Harley, and I rooted for you and Solo to do well in what felt to Solo like a pretty hostile world. Later on, I discovered this online community and got to know even more about Solo. I read some of your research papers, and I got to know a bit about you and your work. Then I had a chance to meet you at Soldier Hollow. Solo's quite a presence in my border collie world. As Solo ages, I'm trusting you to tell us about it in your vivid way. I'll be wanting to know, ya know.

[sweet_ceana]

That was just wonderful. I can just picture Solo ambling along, relaxed and at peace, just happy to be with you. Your description of your relationship with each other just brings a smile to my face. Solo has what everyone wants, someone who loves him for who he is as he is, with full understanding and acceptance.

[Anda]

Very beautiful, Melanie. Loved the last part about the sun setting slowly and enjoying that magic time with your Solo. Hug him from me, 'k?

[desertranger]

Melanie I've been in Alameda, ca without Jin for a week and I'm going through major separation anxeity. Your essay has made the week somewhat easier knowing that I have walks with Jin to look forward to.

[pansmom]

I just want to say how noble that you were able to get Solo to this point, with everything he is and everything he's been through. I love the image of you taking him hunting for mushrooms. And I totally understand the joys of a solo walk. Once, a long while back, my husband told me he wanted to take an iPod along with Pan when he walked her, and I was horrified. Not so much because I thought something bad would happen to the dog or a passersby - although it very well could've, with her, had he not been paying attention - but because when I walk with a dog, I am there to be with the dog, in constant communication through body language and the words we both know. This is a great joy for me now, walking Vala, the way she constantly looks back at me, following my lead, coming back, and then when I release her (on the retractable) bounds off with this exuberant joy. There is something simple and primal about sharing a walk with a dog, seeing the world through the dog's eyes, noticing squirrels and birds and other people and sounds and smells, all the wonderful details they teach us to pay heightened attention to, everything we'd forget to notice if they weren't around. Thank you for putting their contribution into words, reminding us what they do for us with conscious thought.

[ThunderHill]

Beautiful, eloquent, clear, touching. Thank you for sharing. I think I'll take my cranky battered prematurely aged but ever game 10-year-old ACD for a ramble tonight. I don't do that often enough. Thanks for the reminder and the inspiration. From both of us.

 

Liz S

[bc friend]

A beautiful, thoughtful tribute to old dogs - Sara's walks went from lengthy energetic explorations with expressions of wonder at new things and waiting for me to catch up to slow ambles by my side where she still sniffed every bush/light pole/ fireplug, etc. and held her head up to the breeze. Each type of walk has its place in my heart - as it is clear they do in your heart for Solo.

[sea4th]

On Pete's 13th birthday, I took him and only him for a walk. It wasn't a walk with any purpose other than connecting with my heart dog. When he became so ill at 11 yrs. old and I almost lost him, these old dog walks were something he and I did on a regular basis. I really enjoyed that 13th birthday walk but little did I know, that would be the last birthday walk we had together.

 

There's just something about an old dog, one who you share a history with. You know each other. No words are needed, you're that much a part of each other.

 

When I get home, there's another old dog or two at my house that needs walking -- Tam, who is going on 13, deaf, but still handsome as the dickens, and Sligo, 12 yrs. old now, the last of Pete's kids. Sligo and I especially, need to make up for the years we've missed.

 

Thanks for the reminder. The bodys might not be what they once were, but within is the essence, the noblest of souls and that never changes.

 

Thank you.

[SoloRiver]

Thanks guys.

 

I'd like to take this opportunity to wish a Happy Got Day to Solo. I brought him home on September 11, 2000. September 11, 2001 was the last time I posted a "Happy Got Day" announcement for Solo, for obvious reasons, and I wouldn't have except that I posted it late the night before. Solo and I have officially been together for nine years now. And yes, I do find it somewhat ironic that 9/11 is Solo's Got Day.

[Stoga]

Graceful. That's the word that comes to mind when I think of Melanie and the essence of what she shares with her dogs. Happy got day Solo, ironic though it may be. Thanks for always providing us boardsters with a more discriminating level of discourse...

[Malvie]

Lovely essay.

[Sasha's Mom]

Beautiful. Makes me think of ol Grumpy Butt, who also enjoys his ambling walks. Thanks for writing.

[bcnewe2]

Melanie

You have reminded me that it's ok to take 1 dog out without any guilt of leaving the others.

Jazz who is almost 13 just blew out her ACL with the stupid construction people here who wouldn't listen to me to NOT play "stick" no matter what she said. I tried to keep her in but there were sometimes that I just screwed up. Now she is paying the price of my mistakes.

We are trying to stablize (what ever that means) her knee and not risk surgery so she is on very strict watch. But she is missing her walks that she took with the group. I was leaving her inside to keep her safe. You have given me new hope and after writing this, her and I are going to take a walk for as long as she wants. I've been bringing a towel along incase she can't make it but it's been horrible and nearly impossible to try and keep the other dogs from knocking her over.

 

I have other dogs with issues, they all have something but this senior lady is my soul mate and I want to enjoy every "last" minute we have together.

 

Please think of Jazz when you and Solo stop to smell the flowers of life. We will be thinking of Solo and thanking him for all he's given this board and you. And thanks for the special reminder to me that I can take the time to enjoy Jazz all by herself. Which she so dearly deserves.

[Maralynn]

That was beautiful.

 

Missy turned 10 back in March. She still an active dog, but there are times when I realize that she is turning into an old dog. In one way this was never supposed to happen, but in another there is something deep and sweet about my faithful, loyal, beautiful girl that just gets better with age