I'm afraid my little guy is beginning to show his age a bit. He's sleeping more these days. He's so contented to curl up and tuck his nose under his tail like a little fox, or to assume what The Huz calls his "arrow" position, and drift off to dreamland, complete with little arfs and whoofs signalling days of glory and battles supreme. He's a very snuggly dog, loving to sleep on or near me, content to receive a little tummy rub and then drift off to sleep. He's not as surefooted as he used to be on our bare wood floors. And I think I might be noticing the first signs of cataracts in his sweet brown eyes.
But he still wakes up delightedly when I call him to chase squirrels and anything else that runs away from him. I call him The World's Softest Predator ... not that he ever catches his prey. But his efforts have definitely reduced the numbers of those pesky chattery red squirrels under our feeders.
I can't bear to think that someday he won't be with us. It's the bargain we must accept if we join our lives with our canine companions. It's a hard bargain.
See a previous picture of Simba
With tears, this is my Weekend Dog Blogging entry.