The last days of Timmy

Timmy used to race through doors Then she learned to wait Now she won't come in the door at all. She stops. Looks around. I enter, leaving the door open. After a while, she walks in, too. She used to pull ahead of me on our walks  Then, she walked beside me. We connected, woman and dog. Later, she slowed and walked behind. Now, she moves like a plover, zigzagging about Doing the old-dog amble, to one side then another, across the footpath, head down, sniffing everything. Is she's aware of me? It's not clear. She used to gulp her food - frantic, insatiable Then, she got old. She lost teeth that were cracked And others rotted in her mouth Now, I cheer at any eagerness to eat She used to pace and sniff round the garden Pushing into beds of ivy and azalea She dug in the dirt and ate it, sprinkling her nose with black grains. Now, she stands on the grass. Her nose twitches. Now and then, her tail wags. Then it stops. She stands and sniffs and her tail ...

Hi and welcome to my dog blog.  It's about life with Timmy (and Timmy's life), after she got old and developed symptoms of canine cognitive dysfunction (CCD). Timmy  is a senior Corgi x Jack Russell Terrier born 16 April, 2004. This blog begins when she's 15½ (November, 2019). My sister bought her for me at Taz's pet shop in Glenhuntly Road. I took her home with a pink collar, chosen by my niece. I am Debbie,  writer, sometime editor and musician. I enjoy photography, dog training and dancing. I'm a keen birdwatcher and have been studying ballet for the last 5 years. To add to the mix, I run a Facebook Page, charting the fortunes of Australia's most endangered parrot.  Save the Orange-bellied Parrot  began in 2011. I completed a Diploma of Professional Writing and Editing in 2012, and contributed regularly to newspapers and magazines. I have written and published poetry and short stories but my main interest is non-fiction. My journey into positive...

Friends, this is Timmy. She may look like a dog but she's a dog no longer. She's a Shadow Dog. Shadow Dogs exhibit few of their former enthusiasms and none of their previous energy. They sleep almost all the time and when they don't, they walk at the speed of paint drying. They eagerly eat something one day and ignore it the next. They no longer chase - nothing, whether cat, possum, bird - stirs their souls. They won't take food from your hand and often, leave the room when  you offer some in a bowl. Shadow dogs have just enough of their former selves to be recognisable, but they've lost vital parts. If one was an affectionate dog, it will shun affection. If another was reactive to other dogs, it will be tolerant. Timmy has changed a great deal, most difficult to bear is she doesn't like pats. She turns her head away when I reach out my hands.  It's like she doesn't much like me, now. But today, at the park, around two dogs and three humans ...