Buddy and I Have Started Making the Same Noises

The other morning, Buddy stood up from his bed, stretched, and let out a little grunt.

A moment later, I stood up from my chair and made exactly the same sound.

We looked at each other. Neither of us mentioned it.

Buddy is my old black Lab, and apparently somewhere along the way we have reached the stage of life where neither one of us gets up without announcing it.

We do not leap out of bed anymore. We unfold.

This takes a little longer than it used to, but neither of us seems particularly bothered by it. Buddy stretches his front legs, then his back legs, gives himself a good shake and waits while I get myself organized. I wait for him. He waits for me.

Nobody is in a hurry.

There is something rather nice about growing older with a dog.

Dogs do not seem terribly interested in the whole idea of aging. Buddy does not wake up wondering whether he should look younger, move faster or have more energy than he did five years ago. He wakes up wondering whether breakfast has happened yet.

I find this refreshing.

He has never once suggested that either of us should be making better use of our time.

We Have Adjusted to Each Other

When Buddy was younger, waiting by the door was an exercise in barely contained excitement. There were places to go! Things to smell! Possibly squirrels!

Now he waits more patiently. Not because walks are not exciting anymore. They absolutely are. He has simply learned that I am coming.

If it takes me another minute to get ready, Buddy doesn’t care. And if he needs another minute to investigate a particularly fascinating patch of grass once we are outside, I don’t care either.

We have quietly adjusted to each other’s pace.

There is wonderful freedom in spending your days with someone who does not require you to hurry. Buddy does not care if it takes me a little longer to stand up. I do not care if he needs an extra stretch before we head out the door.

Occasionally, one of us stops for no apparent reason. The other waits.

Our Standards Have Changed

We have also developed a mutual appreciation for things we may once have underestimated.

A good nap, for example.

Buddy has always been an accomplished napper, but I have finally begun to understand his commitment to the practice. There are few problems that cannot be solved by closing your eyes for 20 minutes.

We also agree that sunny spots are premium real estate. Comfort matters. Meals should arrive at reasonable intervals. And when you find a really good place to sit, there is no compelling reason to leave it simply because you have been there awhile.

I sometimes wonder if Buddy thinks I am finally becoming sensible.

There are other similarities.

We both occasionally walk into a room and seem momentarily uncertain about why we’re there. We both appreciate routine more than we used to. We are enthusiastic about treats. And apparently, we now make noises when we stand up.

The important thing is that we maintain our dignity.

Nobody Is Keeping Score

There is a great deal written about staying young as we grow older.

Stay active. Stay current. Stay adventurous. Keep learning. Keep moving.

And those are all good things.

But perhaps we do not have to spend quite so much time proving that we are still young.

Buddy certainly does not. He is simply Buddy.

He moves at the speed that feels right today. He enjoys what is in front of him. He rests when he is tired. He gets excited when something is worth getting excited about.

He does not compare today’s walk with the walks he took five years ago. He just wants to take today’s walk. I wish I remembered to do that more often.

This Is Worth Noticing

I think there is something worth noticing in that.

Growing older with Buddy has not made me feel younger. It has made growing older feel more normal.

There is no judgment between us about who moves more slowly or who needs an afternoon nap. There is no scorecard measuring what either of us used to be able to do.

We are here, now. And there is still plenty to enjoy.

A walk. A sunny afternoon. Dinner. A comfortable chair. Someone you love nearby. And, apparently, the occasional involuntary sound effect.

This morning Buddy got up from his bed and grunted again. A few minutes later, I got out of my chair and did the same. Neither of us mentioned it.

We have an understanding.

You may also like, An Ode to My Orange Cat, Leo Tiberius Cumberland.

Let’s Have a Conversation:

What similarities have you noticed between your pet’s behavior and your own? What can you share about your experience growing older with a pet?