“Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”
Carmel is now officially an old dog. The copious white hairs across her face and back certainly gave a clue, as did her notably toned-down level of enthusiasm greeting people and the way she starts limping after walking a few miles in the snow when before she could go for miles with boundless energy. But today Carmel started on medication prescribed for females (both human and canine, apparently) in menopause, which makes it official. Fortunately she is not a picky eater — more vacuum-cleaner-like, if anything — and she happily scarfed down her first dose of medicine in a blob of peanut butter.
I know that the day will come when Carmel is no longer with us, and I dread that day. But mostly I am loving having a dog back in my life on a consistent basis. The other night I just sat and rubbed her face and ears as she curled up in my lap… well, partially in my lap. She is a 77-pound dog, and after all, I’m not real well endowed in the lap department. We made do, though, and I think we both felt relaxed and happy afterward, even if she seemed a bit indignant at my stopping the wonderful ear-stroking. Oh, Carmel.