Three Old Ladies

Three old ladies live in this house.

Two of them are dogs.

If you quickly concluded that I am the third one referenced, you are already enjoying this more than you should.

We are of differing personalities, Gracie, Molly, and me, but the common view we have of life through our respective, aging eyes is uncanny. For starters, not one of us enjoys going to the vet — er, doctor — and we pride ourselves on our clever avoidance tactics. For example and I must say, showing great foresight, Gracie refused to go on car rides for weeks after her last, eventful visit to the vet. Molly is not so cunning as Grace. Into the car she hops, but at the vet, she will hide under the waiting room bench, shoving her big, black nose against the back wall in complete dismay.

I don’t want to be here and you are blocking me from my hiding spot.

I am clever, like Grace. I am married to a doctor so asking his opinion of my nagging cough is as good as going to the doctor, right? Unless your doctor/husband turns on you – which he did, because he is more loyal to his profession than to your idiosyncrasies. Rats.

So, yes, that means Gracie, Molly, and I have all been to the doctor in recent weeks and we are all equally grouchy about it. I, at least, gave Gracie and Molly sympathy.

Another thing we have in common is that we are each rather particular about our personal space, or should I say spaces. Molly’s space is the far corner of the family room sectional. Molly has other spots, but that is HER spot, no exceptions.

Molly, right now, in HER spot.

If ever another of the dogs gets the idea that this spot would be a pretty nifty one to claim for their own, Molly will stand inches from their slumbering body, staring like a setter on point, willing the offender to wake up and get down (Molly is a pacifist at heart).

Molly’s spot and a Marco compromise.

I immediately come to her aid because I know EXACTLY how it feels. The other day Gordy sat in the chair at my writing desk — which is in the corner of the bedroom — to put on his socks. Seriously, both of them. I was shocked, so shocked that for a moment I could only stare in horror, like Molly. Then I laid down the law (I am not the pacifist Molly is, at heart). Gracie has spots all over the house. Funny thing is, none of the other dogs ever make the mistake of trying to claim one of Gracie’s spots. She just has a way about her — even when sleeping.

Do not mess with me.

Yes, I want to be more like Gracie. Sorry, Gordy.

Another thing is we all like to go to bed early. The above pictures of Molly and Gracie sleeping are actual, real time, 8:00, and apparently it’s time for bed pictures. I, at least, am still perched at the computer, but Gordy is traveling and the heated blanket is turned on, so there’s not much stopping me from landing there very shortly. I would like to say it’s because we are all such early risers, but that would be an outrageous lie. In my defense, I am still on nighttime Giada (aka “The Barker”) duty which means at least once or twice at night I am up and out in the back yard helping her find her calm spot. Molly is the worst, or should I say the best at this. She would sleep through a bomb scare. She sleeps through Giada’s barking which is pretty much like a bomb scare. It helps to be mostly deaf, but she doesn’t even really try.

Molly Sleeping
No effort to be awake. None.

Now, I have to say I have enjoyed Gracie’s increased penchant for sleeping. In her younger days, Gracie was the mighty hunter, the feisty one. At the ranch in California, she ran her “trap line” as we called it — all the places a squirrel or mouse once hid or would ever think of hiding and it would take hours. If she ran her trap line after dinner, it usually ended with me trudging around with a flashlight in order to find her and tuck her in for the night — kind of like breaking the spell and turning her back into a pumpkin again. Gracie doesn’t do night rounds anymore. She won’t miss a trip to the barn, but she knows when the outdoor clothes get hung after bed check, that is permission to snuggle in for the night. And that is exactly what she has been more willing to do — snuggle. Last night, Gordy and I were lingering over dinner. I do that; hang on to him a bit longer before he travels, stocking up on him to sustain myself through the next days to come. I was chilled from my last run to the barn. It is bloody cold here right now and I still have this nagging cough (which turned out to be walking pneumonia; yes, Gordy was right), so upon my return, I wrapped myself in the afghan and Miss Gracie said hey – me, too. I made room and we sat like this for the rest of the evening.

Gracie is happy. I am happy, too.

I think having old lady things in common is a good thing. I like growing old with these two creatures, though I am aware that we are not on the same aging continuum; a very sad point, indeed. I am really counting on Gordy here, hoping that he keeps finding it in himself to put up with me, old lady traits and all. So far, so good. Just as long as he stays away from my writing area, we should be fine.

Writing about what sings to me from a life made full with animals.

4 thoughts on “Three Old Ladies

  1. Oh, Lisa, too funny! And yes, we are old ladies now, huh? Periodically I commiserate with our cats about the same issue. They’re not yet as old as I – even in their cat years – but I can see their kitten antics slowly going away and being replaced by naps. Makes me sad. And I don’t blame you one whit for objecting to Gordy sitting in your chair. For crying out of turn!!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Lisa, I just love the picture of you and Gracie cuddling inside your afghan. So tender and sweet. What a special time for the both of you.
    I have a 7 month old puppy. She, since the very first night she spent with me, cuddles up right next to me at bedtime. She puts her little warm, soft body up against my chest and I put my arms around her. We sleep in that position all night long. We don’t move. This has such an amazing therapeutic effect on me. She makes me feel so needed and so loved.
    I am one year short of the big 5-0 and have had an empty nest now for 9 years. My 10 year old “iconic dog” ( a phrase I borrowed from you Lisa) passed away last April. I thought my life was done when I lost my boy. He gave me purpose. He needed me and loved me so much, as I did him.
    We chose to adopt a 1 year old puppy mill rescue after my boy’s passing. We had no idea how difficult that was going to be. He knew nothing about love; giving or receiving. He was filled with fear. Heartbreaking…something I had my fill of at the time. He has been a total blessing however. Funny how things work out.
    But back to my lil Snuggle bug. I’ve never had a little dog before, she’s about 15 pounds. Nor have I had a dog that is so affectionate and loving. Jilly, my pup, was sent down from heaven to mend the part of my heart that was longing for love and affection. She also fulfills my motherly need to protect and love. I cherish every night I lay down with my girl and we cuddle up tight together. I thank God for both my special boy and girl. I know my BenZo (my iconic dog) and God got together to hand pick the little ones I am so blessed to have in my life.
    Whether they are young or old. The fact that they love and trust us enough to want to be right next to us is so incredibly endearing and such a beautiful gift.
    Thanks Lisa for sharing such heartwarming parts of your life with us. When you write, you alway then inspire me to reflect on things in my own life. I really appreciate that. Thank you. ~ Jill

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you so much for sharing, Jill. I know what you mean about that longing for love and affection. Gracie has always been aloof and independent, so the fact that she is aging into a bit of a snuggler is a great gift to me. Maybe I’m just wearing her down, I don’t know, but it makes me feel so good. Hugs to you and Jilly and Grady.


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