The Old Man In My Bed

I have to make a confession. I'm sleeping with a 105 year old. He's lost most of his teeth and his breath stinks; he is almost completely blind and deaf; and, although he still has all the hair on his head, most of it is now snow white.

Before anyone accuses me of pulling an Anna Nicole, let me just say this old man has four legs. He's my "first baby", Romeo.  A miniature dachshund, I brought Romeo home when he was only four weeks old, after his mother weened him early.

When I was deciding what to name him, I thought Romeo was perfect. Although I was dating my future husband at the time, I wasn't positive how long we would be together. I decided, if I named my dog Romeo, then I would always be guaranteed a little romance in my life. (Yep! I was that cheesy at 22.)

Romeo has been with me now through an engagement, a marriage, two births, four houses, a slew of jobs and a separation. We have shared the influx of various critters into our lives, including other dogs, cats, fish and a lone hamster.  I've helped re-hab him back from a broken back which left him partially paralyzed for several weeks. Through thick and thin, through all the changes, we've been together.

Now he's slowly declining in health, and I'm not sure how much longer I will have him with me. I don't want to lose him, as he's been a source of happiness in my life for so long. But I know, if he begins to hurt, and it's only my selfishness keeping him in the pain, I will let him go. I love him too much not to, no matter how much it will break my heart to lose my old man.

“He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion.”