You move slowly now, and jumping is harder. You aren’t that interested in knocking Christmas ornaments off the tree anymore, and you are picky about what you will eat. You are vocal about what you want and are patient and loving to your kids. You notice when our schedule shifts and we aren’t where you expect us to be. Your eyesight has faded and your ear infections have become more frequent.
You can tell when I am sad or sore or scared. You can tell when I can’t handle life, and are never far away from me. You trip me, walk all over me, and sit next to me. You smack me when I am not paying enough attention to you.
You are my raggedy old man. My fur baby. My sweet boy. For 12 years you have been my companion and I love you with all of my heart. There was a time when I didn’t think I liked animals all that much, but you? You have never counted into that. You are the friend I need when I don’t want anyone around. You are a constant presence in my life and when I think about the age that shows on your progressively greying head, I feel teary thinking that at 16 years old there are more years behind you than in front of you.
I can never thank you enough for being my very own raggedy old man. I love you, my sweet boy.