We were sure that last year would be our dog Lucy’s very last Christmas. She was fifteen years old, and had survived a couple of serious health issues. Signs of her aging were obvious: stiffness in her joints, hearing loss, and worst of all, a digestive system that obviously could no longer handle the variety of “food” she still found and insisted on eating. Lucy had been part of our family for over fourteen years, so our Christmas morning was a little bittersweet as all photographed and video-taped what we thought would be the last time she would ever help us open presents.
Clearly, Lucy had other ideas. Because Christmas is a week away, and she is still with us.
I’m not sure if it’s her competitive nature (her doggie sister lived to be sixteen and a half, and I think she has every intention of exceeding that goal), or…
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