Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Old Age Day by Day July 28, 2010

I'm sitting here trying to come up with a topic, and my dog is rustling through the paper in the trash basket. He evidently finds paper, dixie cups and IRS checks to be delicacies. At least his current proclivities are preferable to eating socks (at one point in a two day period 5 socks passed through his system, five whole socks), rocks, acorns and plastic. Now the paper fetish and eating tiny green apples and persimmons seems downright benign.

Not that I can claim immunity. I embibe entirely too many diet cokes, baked potato chips, and occasional fried foods to feel I am a purist. But I have learned to not eat sugar, red meat and processed foods. Of course, it took me until my late fifties to wise up, and also acute pressure from my doctor. From that point of view, my almost six year old dog is downright precocious.

And right now, he and his aunt, my other dog, are out in the cool morning, lying on the damp, soft earth, listening for birds, looking for squirrels, and making absolutely no judgments about the weather, or how long I'll be inside at the computer, or what the day brings them. They are peaceful and relaxed, taking in whatever is so.

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