He did not feel the wind, or smell the salt air. He only stood, staring at the horizon, with the marks of some inner crucifixion and woe deep in his face.
Like Ahab searching for Moby Dick, Shiloh continues his obsessive quest for the elusive great white chipmunk…At night, while kicking his legs in a dreamy chase I can almost hear him whisper…
“From hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee. Ye damned whale.”
Just playing around with my camera and wanting to see if Shiloh was spending his days building a time machine or transmogrifer and playing the ‘innocent little dog’ only when I came home. Well, apparently that’s something I don’t have to worry about…
Last week Andrew Sullivan had a superb post about dogs getting older. Perhaps it’s because Shiloh is the same age as Dusty (12 and a half) and increasingly showing his age but I find myself getting a bit sentimental when I watch him now. This same dog who would run with me for miles and then, with only a short rest, be ready to go again while I still hadn’t caught my breath now can’t walk around the block without a pronounced limp. He loves nothing more than wandering around outside in the forest but knowing he’d barely be able to make it out of the parking lot means I have to keep him closer to home. Cataracts are clouding his eyes and he doesn’t hear as well as he used to.
His nose is still overclocked and he’s able to detect even the hint of cheese or popcorn over incredible distances.
And his memory is sharp. Ever since I came back from Afghanistan he whimpers and cries when I put on my uniform (and that was five years ago now).
Despite his emotional/neurological problems, Shiloh (the fourth dog I can truly consider ‘mine’) is by far the most interesting I’ve ever met and knowing his problems make the times he does show affection all the more meaningful. Still, when the end comes it will be quick. My vet and I have assumed for years that Shiloh won’t fall victim to a long wasting illness but probably some malady or injury that would be easily treated in a ‘normal’ dog but, for him, would inflict too much stress on him even if a treatment could be applied.
Dogs, all dogs, really do treat old age in a way that would make the old stoics proud. There’s no use whining and lamenting times gone by and thinking about what you no longer can do. Instead, find the joy in the things you can. Sitting by the wood stove may not be as nice as playing frisbee for two hours but, if Shiloh’s any judge, it seems to come pretty close.
As for old age, embrace and love it. It abounds with pleasure if you know how to use it. The gradually declining years are among the sweetest in a man’s life, and I maintain that, even when they have reached the extreme limit, they have their pleasure still. – Seneca
And besides, the old fella still has some of that spark in him…
Peter’s just wrote a post on his dog today and it must have subconsciously got me thinking about my own because I finished this post before I remembered his.
It was steamy today so I decided to take Shiloh down to the river. He’s too old to do those amazing frisbee catches of yore:
But he still enjoys fetching and the frisbee so I figured I’d combine some play time with a cooling off strategy.
His reaction to the water (he loves it so long as he doesn’t float and waves are cause to get the hell out of the water ASAP) made me thing about this article I saw yesterday about dog intelligence.
…average dogs can learn 165 words (similar to a 2-year-old child), including signals and gestures, and dogs in the top 20 percent in intelligence can learn 250 words.
While dogs ranked with the 2-year-olds in language, they would trump a 3- or 4-year-old in basic arithmetic…
I remember reading a book as a teenager (I”m not sure which one now) that featured a genetically modified dog that had the intelligence of a slightly mentally handicapped child. The author made the point that such a description was unfair since the modified dog was highly advanced for a dog while the hypothetical child being compared is below average.
Certainly dogs incorporate experience to their cognitive skills and (according to the article and just about any dog owner worth his salt) have a much more sophisticated level of social intelligence than any toddler could have. Shiloh, more than any other dog I’ve ever had, has spent a great deal of time evaluating exactly who is where in the pecking order and letting others know where he felt he fit into that mix. He’s mellowed quite a bit as he’s gotten older but you could see him work out his place in our little pack as well as his reactions to perceived disruptions to that social order (ever since I went to Afghanistan he has a little anxiety attack whenever he sees me wearing my uniform).
I’ve had dogs my whole life but the more I look at Shiloh, the more I understand these are really amazing creatures that have become such a routine part of our lives that we hardly stop to think about them.
From BoingBoing, check out this product: Uncle Milton: Pet’s Eye View Camera
They’re lightweight, mini cameras that clip onto collars and snap 640×480 photos at 1, 5 or 15 minute intervals.
It’s easy to forget that our pets don’t see the world from the same vantage point we do. A table we easily see the top off or the other side of can be like an 8 foot high wall to us. When Shiloh was a pup and beginning to display his unique neurological quirks I took him for some training to prevent him from getting totally out of control. The trainer recommended I get down and try to look at the world from his vantage point. It’s not perfect because even if we put ourselves at that level physically, we still know what’s on the other side of that big box and that we can always stand up if we want. Still, it was an interesting exercise and this camera allows you to do similar things without actually having to crawl around.
An even better version would be a little head-cam so you could see what they’re actually looking at rather than just how their body is oriented but for an inexpensive, non-intrusive gadget it looks pretty cool.
I had to rush Shiloh to the vet this morning as he injured his leg somehow. His fear/aggression problems make vet trips problematic and usually require him to have anesthesia for virtually everything. I therefore just try to bring him in once a year so he can get all his work done at once when he’s under.
As usual, this happened at the worst possible time, forcing me to miss out on an important meeting I was looking forward to.
Happy Holidays everyone from the entire ‘Travels with Shiloh’ staff!
Eleven and a half years old and the dog’s still got it…
When I want to go running he moves around like he wants to tell me about his rheumatism that he got in the winter of ‘04. When I get out the frisbee, he jumps around like a dolphin at SeaWorld. I think he’s just getting better at manipulating me.
Anyway, we (obviously) played a little frisbee and I got some great pictures. Check them out at my flickr site here.
Apparently, he sleeps. I was playing with my camera and set it up to take a picture every ten minutes and then convert it into a movie. I don’t know how to slow it down so the whole thing only takes two seconds but you can see Shiloh spends his whole day laying around doing a whole lot of nothing.
I actually regard this as good news because I was beginning to suspect that he was plotting some sort of nefarious plan. He still may be but at least his hasn’t converted his room into some sort of hi-tech lair where his assorted flunkies and minions can work to carry out his twisted plans…
I think I need to get out more.
Some animals can smell out valuable truffles and bring their owners wealth. Other animals can be used to find illegal substances or rescue people in need.
Shiloh?
He seems to have a knack for finding reptiles. Last year he almost stepped on a couple of snakes (one a rattlesnake) although he couldn’t have cared less.
This year, while taking him for his morning constitutional, he just about planted his paw on the head of this…
It’s a common snapping turtle and ,fortunately for Shiloh, was a little lethargic. If it’s not a squirrel or a chipmunk Shiloh just doesn’t give a crap. I remember when he used to eat spiders. He’s getting a little to selective in his old age.
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