Gettin' Old

It happens so subtly, you know? Old age...When I moved into my house I was 35, young and a lot  slimmer than I am now. I could take two steps at a time on the stairs. I could run like the wind. For miles. I slept. Oh the days when I could sleep. These days sleep is achieved with help from a (pill) bottle, and I can no longer run, most likely because I spent all those years running on concrete. My knees are spent. The Mr. is right behind me, with his salt and pepper hair and beard and his Grandpa tee shirt the grandkids made him for Christmas. 

It sneaks up on you, you don't realize just how old you have become until you occasionally have one of those clarifying moments that you come face to face with it. Like your mind is giving you an update about how old your body is getting. And when it happens you can either laugh or you can cry. I had one of those moments last week and I chose to laugh my butt off. 

I was sitting in my easy chair, just relaxing and minding my own business when out of the corner of my eye, I saw the dog get out of her bed and walk across the room. She stretched her back legs and wandered to the water bowl, took a sip and then wandered back across the room. She stood there staring at me intently, which usually means she needs to go out. If I ask she will answer and so she did.  Do you need to go out, girl? BARK BARK! That means yes. So I eased out of my easy chair and went out the door, grabbing the leash as I went. Belle, knowing she is going out, always gets very excited. I guess life is pretty boring for her. She literally does nothing but lay in her bed or mine 24 hours a day. Going outside is serious business for her, and she takes it seriously. She goes into high alert for the neighborhood cats who are always prowling around our property, either in the garden or the hot tub room, or under one of the vehicles. Today was no exception. She was sniffing around the back door by the time I got there, making little snuffling noises and pawing and barking. She was ready. But I couldn't find my shoes. So I decided to wear the Mr.'s giant Sketchers. I slipped my bare feet into them like slippers and we padded out the door. We walked around for a minute or two. She was taking her time. This was one of those days that she needed to check out every part of the yard. After a few minutes I got tired. I sat down in one of the adirondack chairs. The sun was warm, the wind was blowing ever so slightly. I sat back and closed my eyes...my hand relaxed on the leash...right as Frank, the neighbor's cat came zipping by. Quick as lightening, like a shot out of a cannon, the leash jerked out of my hand and Belle was off! Around the corner she took off, after Frank, who was running like the wind to get away. I clumsily jumped up and started limping across the yard as fast as I could with my gimpy knees and my husband's clown shoes hampering my every step. Belle....BELLE! COME BACK HERE, NO, NO, NO, BELLE! 

I padded around the corner of the house, going as fast as I could, yelling as loud as I could, to no avail. My heart was racing, literally pounding for fear she would run into the street, or that she would get the cat. I didn't know which would be worse. Both would be catastrophic. No pun intended. So there we went, like some caricature of a long forgotten cartoon, the woman chasing the dog, chasing the cat. Then I heard a noise behind me. I turned around and there was the Mr., coming around the corner behind me, as fast as he could manage, brandishing his cane!  If my heart hadn't been beating so hard, I think I would have burst out laughing, picturing the two of us, me in his big old shoes, he with his cane, both of us tottering after the dog as fast as we could. He had heard me yelling and run down the stairs as fast as he could go, fearing something had happened to the dog. He and I both stopped in our tracks. I looked around and saw the dog then, she sat down in the neighbor's yard to scratch an itch. I called her and she came to me, leash dragging, wagging her short stumpy tail, as happy as can be. Frank had easily outrun her and was long gone. I grabbed her leash, thankful for a good end to that little episode and vowed to hold onto the leash a little tighter from now on. The Mr. and I stood in the front yard for a minute to catch our collective breath, while the neighbors, undoubtedly looking out from behind their curtains probably laughed with incredulousness at the ridiculousness of their neighbors, running around in gigantic clown shoes and wildly waving canes in the air. I'm sure they think we are nuts. We aren't nuts, just old, apparently.