It’s a Dog’s Life: Golden Years

Teddy ponders over the passing of time and the implications of being in our golden years, as described by his human translator, Helen Stockton 

As we head into November, there is a real sense of the year slipping past. Christmas stuff has been in the shops prior to Halloween, and it is only a matter of time before the Easter eggs appear. Maybe they should merge the two and have mince pie flavoured chocolate eggs – just a thought! 

This month ‘Her Indoors’ faces one of those delicate birthdays with a zero attached to it. I don’t wish to let the dog out of the bag but in years gone by, when she first started working, she would have been getting her state pension. Now she has to wait another seven years. 

She can access her private pensions, but she has been busy calculatingwhether jam today is better than slightly more jam tomorrow with some interesting speculations, based on family history, as to how long she might reasonably be expected to live. Cheering stuff! 

Anyway, I imagine we will be faced with some prolonged celebrations which should tide us over to the festive ones that begin in earnest next month. By the time we get to January we will, quite frankly, be expawsted! 

We dogs live to a different set of rules to those of our human compatriots. Myself and the apprentice, Bear, share the job designationof family pet, which, like the monarch’s role, is for life. 

There is no letting up for me as a senior fur. I still have to take ‘Them Indoors’ for walks, stop them from over-heating by blocking the radiating warmth from the wood burner, clear up spillages in the kitchen, and reduce their blood pressure through allowing them to fuss and stroke me. 

Age has allowed me to introduce some new benefits, however. When we go for walks, I like to take my time over any sniffing and sometimes decide I want to go in the opposite direction, which teaches patience. I also like to suddenly slam on the brakes which is good for their reflexes. 

I’ve gone a bit deaf so ‘Them Indoors’ are devising some basic doggy sign-language which is good for their mental stimulation. I also get tired on long walks so ‘Them Indoors’ have thoughtfully bought me a buggy. Obviously, pushing this is an excellent additional form of exercise for them. 

The first time I used it, I was slightly put out to discover that I was still expected to walk a bit too. If you’ve got the doggy equivalent of a sedan chair, why would you not want to lay back and enjoy the ride? So, no retirement for me then. 

However, if the government is minded to give us canines a pension, payment in biscuits would be much appreciated. Where do I sign?