Getting old sucks

12/22/24

Don’t ask me what I was thinking when I adopted a senior dog. The reality is that I wasn’t thinking, I was drinking and I didn’t play that tape out.

The past few months have been hard with whiskey. Nothing could have prepared me for it. She would wake up every two hours to go outside and I could feel the sleep deprivation eating away at my spirit. Lack of sleep is one hell of a drug.

Some nights were harder than others. The move was really hard on her. She was so happy and full of life when we moved to San Diego. I’ll never forget the moment that we discovered she likes being buried in the sand at the beach. I also will never forget the moment that I realized she completely stopped enjoying it. She really stopped enjoying everything. Her mobility declined very quickly. She had episodes of anxiety and truly she did not seem like herself for longer than I can admit. She could barely stand to relieve herself, but she mostly used the diaper. I can’t tell you the last time I saw her tail wag.

It feels like she mustered up the last of her energy to make sure I returned home safely and began to settle into my new life. She looked at me and said that she did what she was put on the earth to do.

She comforted me through the grief of losing taffy. She gave me a reason to get sober. She was there with me in rehab and helped me stay sober. She went to college! She was there to remind me to enjoy the sunshine on my face in San Diego, always sitting on the steps outside my apartment and watching over the neighborhood. She was always down for adventures and camping. She would taste test my cooking and usually get her own little plate. She would always go lay with the gayest couple on the beach. I think it was her way of trying to tell me to come out. She was at the park when I was falling in love for the first time and she was there in the trenches when I got my heart broken. She taught me responsibility and ownership. She got to be a part of my larger family and watched those relationships heal, and she made sure that I made it to this next chapter of my life.

I hate my life without her. I don’t laugh as much anymore. I don’t spend as much time smiling at the sun, letting it warm my face. It’s too quiet in my room, and yet I still look around for her.

1/25/25

This post and playlist feel very underdeveloped to me, but I can't return to these without breaking down. The night I made the decision, I listened to Rivers and Roads on repeat and cried on the floor for hours.

Having cerby around really helps. He has made me giggle quite a bit. He's definitely gotten me out of my bed and made good use of whiskey's left over food and beds. It's not even 11AM and we walked/ ran 5 miles and I'm about to post my first blog in months. It's hard to find motivation to do even the things you love most when you lose your biggest inspiration. This is a season of celebrating little steps in the right direction.

Here's to new chapters,

Ken and Cerb

PS: can we talk about this identical drool?