Pablo, our terrier, has gone blind. He can still find a pile of chiffon lying out to be turned into tutus.
Our dogs have grown old. Pablo is blind, Winnie is mostly deaf. Her arthritis prevents her from descending stairs. He gets confused if we move the furniture. Their lives have become a sort of fast forwarded version of our own. When the ailments of age overtake me I hope I'll also have a warm heater, and old cushion, a constant companion and a decent feed every night.
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