It's all in how you feel, I think, and I feel terrific! I can run as fast as ever, jump up on my humans' bed just fine, can see people walking on my street through the trees to bark at them, and can hear a food bag opening in the kitchen from way under the porch…what more could you expect? I've got to say, if anyone thinks a doggy at 9 is over the hill, they have to think again. And look at my sister, Cappy. I think she is going to be 16 this fall and she is doing great, too. She doesn't catch those tennis balls on the fly like she did for a zillion years, but she can still run, bark at the neighbor dogs if called upon, and doesn't miss much. She always follows my mom around, so that means she has to get up and down a lot! And Junior who came to live with us last year is 11 and has plenty of energy, too. So this 'age' and 'senior' stuff is something I don't really understand. I plan to always be young at heart!
|Eli learning the backyard ropes from Ashley|
|Time for Junior's eye drops|
Another thing that I don't understand is the word 'foster'. Mom and Dad told us that Ellington is a foster dog, but we don't see that he is treated any differently from the rest of us. He has his own bed and bowl, a new collar, and he has found all the napping places around the house (and made one of his own one day…in a pile of laundry!) He seems happy and content to be here. I'm sure feeling the breeze in your fur, walking in the grass, sunbathing on the porch, and having a nice soft bed to sleep is a lot better than spending your days in a cage in a shelter without much human companionship, or worse, being a stray, which he was when
|Hanging out on the porch|
Now that I've recovered from my shock of being labeled 'senior', I don't think much about it and just live my happy life with my big family as I've been doing. I haven't told the others (except young Copper) they are 'seniors', too. No need to alarm them.
Signing off for now!