“Happy Birthday to me!”
June was the month of my birth. I’m 12 now, that’s 84 in human years. I have no concept of what age really means though, unlike humans, for that I feel like a lucky dog.The only thing that tells a dog that something is different are the symptoms we feel in the moment they affect us. They go as quickly as they come. To us dogs we are forever the same, so if we have a burst of excitement we go right into the same dance we always did in that moment. I have seen my Connie do the same kind of dancing when the music gets her going. She’s like a lucky dog in those moments too, because she’s forgotten about age. She’s always amazed at the moves she still has. Even though I wish she would stop, I can’t bare to watch sometimes, it’s worth seeing the smile it brings to her face. That in-itself makes her look young again.
So maybe age is about the way we feel, and not about the number of years we’ve lived. It’s called a lucky dog concept, feel what you feel in the moment then forget about it when it passes. Life is all about living in the moments. Hot dog…I’ve become wise in my 84 years!