SLICE #10- The annual Star slice

She is thirteen now. Her muzzle, once pure black, gets grayer every week.

And she's gray around the eyes now too.

She doesn't jump on and off the bed or couch anymore. Sometimes she hoists herself up, but mostly she sleeps on the floor, on a pile of blankets I've put down for her. She still prefers the pile of blankets to the expensive dog bed I bought a couple of years ago.

She doesn't follow me all over the house anymore. Instead, she lays at the top or bottom of the staircase, waiting for me to come back.

Somedays, she has trouble up and down the stairs. Sometimes, I have to help her. Once in a while, I'm not fast enough, and she slides backward on her belly, then lays at the bottom of the stairs until I get there to hoist her back to her feet.

One thing, though, hasn't changed.

And that's her after dinner ritual.

The second she has finished the last morsel in her dish, the pacing begins.

Followed by the whining.

She is ready for her walk.

And she is relentless until I put on my sneakers and pick up her leash.

The minute we head out the door, the years melt off, and she becomes the frisky young pup that she used to be.

She is not a dog who trots obediently next to me. Instead, she is always out in front, sniffing, sniffing, sniffing.

She's an expert at finding food. No fast food wrapper, or chicken bone, or potato chip bag, escapes her.

She's delighted to meet new friends, and approaches with tail wagging glee or an occasional bark.

She's a little more crochety though, and does not like her new friends to be overly friendly or touchy.

And heaven help the over amorous male. 

Star's still good for a couple of miles.

And she does not like it when I shorten her walks because of my time or because of weather.

Once in awhile her back legs give out and she falls onto one hip or onto her belly.

And then I wonder how much longer our ritual will continue.

How much longer she will be around.

And whether this will be the last year

I can write a "Star" slice.