When Your Dog Slows Down
One of the things nobody really shares about dogs getting older is that they don’t just slow down. They slow you down, too.
Moses is ten and a half now, inching toward eleven, and lately we’ve been noticing it more. The walks are shorter. The pace is slower. The hills that he used to charge up without a second thought now require consideration. Getting into the car isn’t automatic anymore. The back legs that once launched 150 pounds of dog into the back of our SUV aren’t cooperating the way they used to.
Moses at sunset
So, we’ve adapted. We park closer. We leave a little earlier. We lift when he needs lifting. We choose walking routes based on what he can comfortably do instead of what we’d like to do. And surprisingly, that’s been one of the gifts of loving an aging dog. Because when they slow down, they teach you to slow down too and notice things you might otherwise rush past, like a patch of wild flowers or the chirping of birds in a nearby tree.
A walk that used to be measured in miles is now measured in minutes. A successful outing might simply mean that Moses got outside, walked around the block, sniffed a few interesting smells, felt the sun on his face, and came home content. That’s enough.
Of course, slowing down doesn’t mean stopping. While there are things Moses can’t do the way he once did, we still look for ways to keep him engaged. The long walks have become shorter walks. The adventures have become simpler ones.
At home, we’ve started relying more on chew toys and food puzzles that give him something to focus on. If he can’t burn energy covering miles or going to doggy daycare, he can still exercise his mind. He can still solve a problem, work for a treat, and enjoy the satisfaction of doing something that feels purposeful. It’s a different kind of activity, but it’s an activity nonetheless.
Bone, chewed
We’ve noticed something similar with Ron’s mom.
When we used to visit her, the days were full. We’d go here, then there, always trying to fit in one more thing. But now, in her mid-eighties, life moves at a different pace. We still make sure she gets out. We still encourage her to walk because movement matters. But the expectations have changed.
Maybe instead of spending hours shopping, we spend twenty minutes strolling through a store she enjoys. And we now head to dinner much earlier, and we sit a little longer. Maybe the destination matters less than simply being together.
The goal isn’t doing more. The goal is to make sure the things that still bring joy remain part of the day.
There’s a similarity between the old dog carefully making his way down the driveway and the elderly parent taking measured steps through a parking lot. Both are reminders that aging isn’t necessarily about stopping. It’s about adjusting. And maybe that’s something the rest of us struggle with more than they do.
Because while Moses has slowed down, Lewie hasn’t. He still races through life with all the enthusiasm and energy of a younger dog. And that’s a reminder, too. Life contains both things at once - the slowing down and the speeding up.
The trick is learning to appreciate each season for what it is.
Mo and Lewie, napping in the sun
To cherish the dog who can still run and the dog who can only stroll.
To value the energy that’s still ahead while also honoring the quieter pace that comes with age.
Mostly, though, it’s about recognizing that love can be matching someone else’s speed. And discovering that when you do, you find lovely things worth noticing there, too.