top of page

Age Is(n’t) Just a Number

Writer's picture: Rachel R. BaumRachel R. Baum

Let’s just say I’ve been heavily recruited by AARP.


There are reading glasses in every room in my house, the volume on the TV is a tad too loud for my children, and just about everything hurts. So I am empathetic – and sympathetic – to my senior clients, human and dog alike. See In Praise of Senior Dogs.

I know firsthand that living with an aging dog can be a challenge.

If there was a senior citizen organization for dogs (Same initials: American Association of Retired Pups), my 15 year old Cairn Terrier Nellie would be a member in good standing.

Nellie looks a little like Andy Rooney. Her body is as lumpy as a bowl of oatmeal. Her muzzle is a frazzled gray, and her coat is a patchwork of coarse wiry hair with a distinct odor that no amount of grooming or bathing seems to alleviate. We suspect its because she carries a bit of every potty break with her wherever she goes. Hence her nickname: Dingleberry.

She’s down to about four teeth, her eyes are rheumy, and her hearing is, well, selective.

But the saddest part of Nellie’s aging process is her personality change. She has Canine Cognitive Dysfunction, otherwise known as Doggie Dementia.


On a good day, she acts like an irritable crocodile. She used to be an upbeat happy girl, given to frequent giddy laps around the house and an uncanny sense of when mealtimes should occur. Lately, though, she growls at anyone who touches her, especially at night. Although we joke about her grouchiness, even our guests are wary. Before walking past her, they ask gingerly “Which Nellie is she now?”

She wakes up in the middle of the night sometimes, shuffling around in the dark. She doesn’t howl like some elderly dogs do, but she does have an occasional accident. Sometimes she stares off into space for no apparent reason. If we wake her to take her outside or to go upstairs, she snaps and growls at us. Outside, she often forgets why she is there, and then forgets how to get back inside.

I also wonder sometimes if she still recognizes us.

Is this a training issue? Can Nellie be trained out of her aggression and all-around crabbiness? Right now, I am a firm believer in the power of treats for my food-motivated dog. Since Nellie still gets pleasure from food, we can motivate her to move from one place to another with a choice morsel. She even seems to enjoy a short hike on a flat trail, since snacks are always part of excursion.

Nellie is on some medications to alleviate the pain and stiffness of her arthritis, and we are looking into ones that have been found to  help elderly dogs preserve cognitive function longer. We also take her outside more often, try to keep her routines and furniture placement the same to prevent confusion, and supervise her when she is outside.

My expectations for my own foray into advanced age are pretty low. I’m hoping to be cognizant enough toward the end to enjoy the love of the family and friends still left, and to make it to the bathroom on time. Given that criteria, I guess Nellie’s not doing too bad after all.

Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
  • Facebook
  • Twitter Clean
bottom of page