Life Lessons from A Little Old Senior Gal

Her name was Ceci, and I met her when she was already 12 years old.

My sister thought she was funny looking.  But she was the most beautiful girl in the world to me. 

She had a lovely gray muzzle and two old lady moles on her face.  I would not let the vet take them off when I had her teeth cleaned.  She would not have looked like my Ceci Girl then.

For seventeen months, I worried less and laughed more.

For seventeen months, I stared into space without worrying that something was wrong with me.  I was sitting on the bed with my Ceci Girl while she knawed on a rawhide.  I had no T.V. just a radio.  It was okay to stare into space.   To just be in the moment.  And to listen to the sound of silence.

For seventeen months, I went for walks two--sometimes three--times a day.  Regardless of the weather.  In the dark before dawn and in the dark after dusk.  All for her and in the end for me, too.

For seventeen months, I learned the glory of a doggie snuggled up beside me and the longing when she sometimes moved back to her own bed next to mine.  I always wanted her to come back to my bed for the whole night, but she liked to switch back and forth so she could fluff up the covers on her own bed and snuggle beneath them like doxie doggies like to do.

For seventeen months, I lived in the moment and stopped worrying about the next minute, the next hour, the next day, the next week, the next month, or the next year.

For seventeen months, I learned what the word glorious truly meant.

For seventeen months, I learned what if felt like to have a child--even in the form of a furchild--and felt the awe of holding a doggie as if she were a baby girl.  I always wanted a daughter, and she came to me in the form of a lil' old senior gal.

For seventeen months, I experienced a dog's life as if it were my own, and for seventeen months, it was my own life.

 

She was the light of my life
The heart of my soul

Ceci and Me
"Kissing Ceci's Ears"