I was in the fourth grade when our family moved from El Paso, Texas to Albuquerque, New Mexico. We moved because I could not breathe the air there. I want to say they cracked petroleum there. But what did I know beyond the sky was sometimes yellow and I could not breathe. Mom was pregnant with Debbie, and Gary and I rode in the backseat separated by a round tank full of Dad's tropical fish. Dad had a job with Sealright, Inc which made paper milk cartons. Sealright was a polyethylene packing subsidiary of Phillips 66. The petroleum company. I was rather proud of myself for learning to say that, and to not laugh when adults would stare at me not knowing what to ask about that. Albuquerque smelled better. Then. Before all the freeways were built and the shape of the valley trapped the exhaust down near the ground in the winter months. We lived in the foothills. I could breathe. I learned that if I could see the air I could not. Still it was better than El Paso though I missed our trip...
I had no idea old dogs would be so much like old people.....the whole pride thing, and the wandering away. It is so heartbreaking that their lifespan is so much shorter than ours. You are right, it is not fair to sacrifice the life of the younger dog (or person) completely to the needs of the old one.
ReplyDeleteVery interesting how similar the issues are with dogs and people. The same heartbreak, the same finding balance between meeting the needs of the old and the young...
ReplyDeleteI*am so sorry I missed this but then again, I really haven't been around that much. An early morning greeting on FB, the odd comment on a status and that's been about it. No blog reading and definitely no writing.
ReplyDeleteOlder dogs are harder to handle. I feel sad for you watch your beloved fur kids get older. Sixteen is quite some age.
And then losing Willow. That is just beginning to sink in.
ReplyDeleteI know. I was convinced Willow would come back.
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