Walking the dog
Earl and I have always been dog people, but my limited mobility affected the kind of dog parents we wanted to be. I realize there are docile, lap critters who need loving homes, but we've never been able to pull off sharing our life with small creatures. Earl's not home full time and I consider myself lucky to navigate independently. Most dogs need more than I can fairly give, at a pace I can't manage easily. Lucy's end game in 2011 was difficult.* At nearly 14, her hip arthritis and bad knees kept her from getting herself to a standing position. Earl had just broken his leg and was on crutches. He couldn't help when she went down. I was using a walker continuously and no help. The three of us made a pretty pathetic parade. If not for a dog–loving, out-of-town friend, I'm not sure how we would have coped that last weekend. Fortunately, she only had to help Lucy up. Lucy (1998—2011) Earl and I make do with the occasional dog fix. Even though our