Pickles the Dog

And the tenderness for the aging

The first time I saw Pickles, a senior golden retriever, being pulled by his person in a wagon, I cried. And then immediately ran into the house and gave Jazzy kisses all over his face, which is turning white around his eyes like a Halloween mask.

He turned 12 this past summer and shows no signs of aging except his whitening face and stinky old-man breath. But seeing Pickles in his wagon, enjoying a stroll through the neighborhood, has me thinking about the extra tenderness and fuss the aging deserve. And need.

I'm in a busy phase of life. Working full time, taking care of myself, the house, and the pets. Most evenings, it's almost 8 p.m. before I'm done doing all the things that keep the house tidy enough (it's not clean-clean), myself nourished, and the pets fed and walked.

And yet, I don't feel good when days go by without checking in on the older people in my life. The people whose days aren't filled with work and errands and house to-do lists too long to ever finish.

What could I give up? Where could I bend time a little to offer more love and tenderness to someone who would appreciate a visit, a hug from a familiar face, or the equivalent of a ride around the park? Just to watch the leaves dance in the wind, breathe some fresh air, and chat about everything and nothing.

I keep thinking that someday life will slow down. That there will be more time to give, more time to visit, more time to simply be with the people I love.

But when those slower days finally arrive, will I be too old, too tired, or too unmotivated to give more of myself?

Will I have missed the opportunity to show a little extra tenderness to a beautifully aging face?

Maybe we all deserve a little ride around the park now and then. Someone willing to slow down, pull the wagon, and let us enjoy the breeze.

And maybe, sometimes, we need to be the one pulling the wagon.