Fanny Pants

My lovely Fanny, at 12-1/2 years of age, in her Christmas gear.

Today I had the pleasure of going home during lunch to take out the furkids.  My husband is usually home during the middle of the day, but today he had a commitment to tend to, so it was my turn to come home and get some fresh air with the puppies.  It has been several weeks since I have had to leave work and it was a nice change.

Per the usual course these days, Fanny had no idea when I got home.  I have made a habit of making louder noises when I get home so that I do not all of a sudden appear and startle her.  Today was no different.  I did my usual routine and she heard something, although she didn't hop off the couch until she saw me appear through the doorway.  Once she did see me, though, her happiness came about and came over wagging.   Shortly thereafter I let Oscar out of his crate and we all headed outside.

As I stood outside today, tossing the frisbee for Mr. Oscar, I paid special attention to my dear, sweet, special Fanny and found myself really connected to her.  I simply watched her move around the backyard, navigating the ground, sniffing for food (rabbit poopies, I'm sure!), and occassionally lifting her head catching an air scent. 

I found myself watching her rear legs a lot.  Fanny has lost a lot of muscle mass in her rear end and legs the past couple of months.  It truly was amazing watching her balance her weight over her back half...she put both rear feet, one in front of the other, directly underneath the middle portion of her back end.  Ever so slighty, she swayed a little bit to each side and then took a step or two and repeated this routine.  It was completely fascinating. 

When I touched her, I noticed every single one of her vertebrae and her hip bones with hardly any muscle covering them.  Instead of being disgusted, though, I felt truly connected to her and her aging process.  I know her time is coming to an end soon...and the day she crosses that rainbow bridge is coming closer than we all want it to be, but she is one dignified, graceful lady.  It is amazing to watch her navigate around her environment, being totally commited to each step with a complete understanding of what she needs to do to move from point A to point B. 

Our morning walks together have turned into complete awareness journies.  I let her sniff all she wants.  I let her go wherever she wants.  I let her pee on every tree.  I know this is what make her happy and I don't want to take that away from her in her remaining life on this earth.