Experiential realization: It isn't old age per se that is less-than-wonderful (people are really nice, courteous, helpful to little old grey-haired ladies leaning on a cane), it's the frailty of old age that is the wicked witch.
I am being presented with my own frailty in the realization that I probably will not get...never have for my own...another dog. A cat maybe, but not a dog. I have nothing against cats except that they're not dogs.
The truth is I all but totter now, and a dog on a leash in the early morning dark doesn't bode well. And it doesn't bode well either for me or for the dog. He wouldn't get the outside time, the playtime...the dog time...that he deserves.
I'm saying my
thank you, but my heart is breaking.
Thank you.
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