Weekend zapped by pretty quick… The wrestling conference downtown, (and their subsequent buy-out of the Hard Rock for private parties), meant longs shifts for Chad.

My parents, though divorced and non-communicato – always seem to synchronize their needs. This past weekend they both needed help with their macs. The coincidences gets creepy sometimes.

Meanwhile, an LJ-friend recently posted a short, completely heart-breaking, string of entries about his cat’s death. These entries must have effected me more than I thought. The whole reality of the short-shelf life impermanence of pets haunted me all weekend…

We got Dakota when I was a sophomore in college…. (circa 1992)… I can’t really call her my dog – she’s long since imprinted onto my dad since moving out on my own.

She’s starting to do that “old” thing… She’s reaching the end of her cycle – which is going to suck a lot worse for dad than me…

Nonetheless – I spent some extra time with her on this last visit…. I snapped a few photos, got on the ground with her and paid some special attention.

She’s always happy to see me and still tries to climb into my shirt for a ride as she used to when she was a puppy. I guess that’s what’s so damn heartbreaking about pets getting old.. They don’t perceived age like we do.

She isn’t plagued with the bitter-sweet, glassy-eyed “this may be the last time I see you” notions and make believe conversations we have when I visit:

J: “You poor thing – you can’t get around very good anymore.”

D: “Scratch my ears.”

J: “Can you even hear me? Are you going deaf?”

D: “Are you going to eat that?”

J: “What are we going to do if you get sick and need to be put down?”

D: “Is that a rabbit?”

J: “You don’t understand any of this do you.”

D: “I love you”

Who-da-thunk I’d gleam lessons about presence of mind and enjoying the moment from a tubby little geriatric bitch.

Who-da-thunk I’d try to blog about this.