When I Am Old


I shall wear turquoise and soft gray sweatshirts, and a bandana over my silver hair.  I shall spend my Social Security Checks on good wine, and my beloved dogs.  I shall sit in my house on my well-worn chair, and listen to my dogs breathing.

I will venture out on a warm summer night, and take my dogs for a run in the woods, if my old bones will allow it.

When people come to call, I will smile, and nod as I show them my dogs.  I will talk of them, and about their show careers; the dogs so beloved of the past, and the ones so beloved of today.

I will work hard cleaning up after them, and brushing them, and feeding them.  And I will whisper their names in a soft, and loving way.

I will wear the gleaming sweat of my labor on my throat like a jewel, and I will be an embarrassment to my friends.

These dear friends of mine who wait at all hours for my footfall, and eagerly jump to their feet out of a deep, sound sleep, to greet me as if I am a god.

They watch with warm eyes full of adoring love, and hope that I will stay, and hug their lean strong necks, and kiss their dear sweet heads, and whisper in their ears that they are the very best company I could ever want.

I look in the mirror, and see I am getting older.  Loving dogs is easy.  This is the kind of woman I am, and have always been.  They are part of me, and always accept me for who I am.

My dogs appreciate my presence in their lives, and love me without question.  And, when I am very very old, this will be even more important to me.

You will understand when you are old.  But only if you have dogs to love.  Dear friends who give you. unconditional love and devotion in return.






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