Mickey
is an old dog about whom I’ve written more than once, usually in concert with
other family dogs. He is a miniature American Eskimo, a huge white 14 year old
hairball. He weighs in at 23
pounds which, as you will see, has become a problem. Age has affected Mickey in some physical ways but has not
affected his personality. Basically he hates people, especially people in his
backyard. The ankles of the guy who cleans the pool and the gardener are both
targets for his vicious attacks. He has attacked the ankles of friends of ours
despite our pleas to stay in the house, don’t turn your back on him, and never
try to pet him.
But
here’s the thing about Mick today, he is now mostly blind and deaf and weirdly
doesn’t always recognize us which is a little odd considering we’re the only
people he’s ever liked. He’s also pretty gimpy with arthritis. Walking,
running, and going up and down stairs requires some concentration. Regardless, he
still gives the pool guy a run for his money when he enters and leaves the yard
threatening to bite holes in his net since he can’t quite get a bead on his
ankles anymore.
He can’t find his
dog food unless it’s right in front of him but he can sense the squirrel cavorting on the back wall and scare it up
a tree. In the house he doesn’t know where I am even if I’m talking to him,
unless I wave my hand in front of his nose but somehow “sees” me through the window when I come down in the morning to feed
him. He even tells time, beginning his ‘feed me’ yips precisely at 4 pm every
day.
Open the front
door and Mickey won’t venture outside. I think there are two reasons for that.
The first is that it requires negotiating 3 steps to get there and other is
that he can’t see what’s out there. Just like lots of old people his world has
become very circumscribed. He cruises the backyard and the downstairs of the
house. Beyond that he’s not taking any chances.
Worst of all Mickey
is crazy, demented, senile, nuts, whatever you call it when an old dog loses
his mind. I’ve had a few old dogs but never one that was senile. My vet says
there are supplements to try, but forcing pills down the throat of a 100 year
old dog seems a little harsh. It’s hard enough to find ways to get his daily
pain pills down.
Mickey lives
outside. He likes it that way. He comes in the house to see if he can cadge
some food but if none is forthcoming stands at the slider waiting to be let
out. Out is where he is most comfortable in his fur coat and also where the
trouble starts. Our yard includes
a pool, some grass, concrete, and most importantly a raised deck at the shallow
end of the pool. Two shallow steps lead up to the deck which is also framed with a short
wrought iron fence.
Bear in mind that
Mickey has lived in this yard his entire life. We haven’t changed anything. But suddenly, for no particular
reason I can discern he has become flummoxed by the two steps and the deck. He
gets up on the deck, I don’t know how, and can’t get down! I look out the
kitchen window and there he is running back and forth along the fence and
around the deck unable to get down.
I
come out of the house and call to him and even go over to the steps but nope,
he’s not coming down. Those are
steps to the great unknown and he’s not about to set even one paw on them. I try to convince him to come close
enough that I can grab his collar and gently pull him down the first step. But
he’s on to me now that I’ve done it a couple of times and backs away when I come toward him. My
only recourse is to pick him up, one arm around his rear, the other around his
chest, and set him gently below the steps. He is then deliriously happy and runs off to the water bowl
to celebrate his freedom.
However, he is
heavy and bulky and not always cooperative. So between his girth and my own
arthritic knee it’s a chore getting him up and down and set down gently. I wish
I could teach him how to walk around the pool to get back to the patio but this
is one old dog who’s not learning any new tricks.