On summer nights, Kerouac starts to come alive just before sunset. I’m ready for snuggling, and she’s planning adventures. She tells me all about them. In her husky ways, she lets me know that we are in this together, and she expects me to get my crap together so we can be on our way. As soon as I say the words, she’s no longer an almost-fifteen year old dog, but a force of excitement that cannot be kept from adventure. You know the words I’m talking about.
Our adventures are not long. Her excitement is big, but it only lasts for a block or two depending on the day. She sniffs all the usual spots, zigzagging across our path as I try to keep from tripping over her. I’m amazed her old nose is still so good at doing its work.
She ignores most other dogs on our walks, except for a collie. The collie and its person walk in front of us, and it bends its head backwards to watch us the entire block home. Kerouac pulls more on the lead, prancing while her eyes are locked with the collie’s. She wants to play. This makes me happier than she can understand because it reminds me of her as a puppy. My forever puppy.
My old girl is my heart, and she has given me one of the greatest adventures as her human. It’s hard to believe we’ve been together just over 14 years. No matter how old we get, we are still just as wild at heart as the day we first met.
Love you my girl.
