Sleepytime

“Fifteen years old! Good for him, he looks great! He still looks like a puppy.”

We often get comments like these or something similiar when in public with Mister Bentley, and while it’s appreciated, the truth remains that our ‘puppy’ is getting on in years. His eyesight is slowly going, he can only manage walks on flat surfaces instead up the mountains like we used to do, and he is starting to experience fecal incontinence at night. Most times he can make it to the door, but on occasion, oopsy!, there’s an accident.

The only thing he’s still good at is hearing and smelling. I mean seriously: bad eyes, stiff joints, picky appetite – I get that. But let me open a package of pasta and instantly he knows I’m making ‘noodles’. When I make pizza, watch out! He’ll sit there beside the dining table and beg with his big sad eyes. Well, actually he begs all the time no matter what we’re eating but I think it’s a learned habit picked up from watching the Westie.

Not long ago I took him for a brief stroll and we met up with a couple of elderly ladies that we nearly always run into on our walks. One of them used to call him bella (intended for a female dog of course). I would politely correct her with a bello. This time she got it right, but Mister B simply ignored her (usually he would bark angrily at the ladies). I tell her it’s because he’s getting deaf. She replied with a laugh, saying, “Yes, it’s the same with men when they get older!”

I wouldn’t dare tell MotH that he ignores me, but sometimes I do tell him that he’s deaf.

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