Hello there my old fur comrades. It’s good to be here today. It’s good to be anywhere today at my age. I’ve enjoyed seeing another new year in and I’m in relatively good spirits. I’m still getting fed and looked after in accordance to my status as chief senior resident of the household. I’m now officially older than my senior owner, in dog years, which is saying something because my senior owner is 85 this year.

We do alright together, the two of us. We forget a lot, can’t see properly and the hearing is going, but we managed to wolf down our dinners and enjoy our days together still.

My only angst is the presence of that interloping snapper, Angus, in the holiday periods and occasional weekend visitations. I can’t seem to get rid of him anymore. My teeth aren’t what they used to be unfortunately, or I’d be given him a couple of shots of dutch courage that he would remember for the rest of his life.

Until next time…

Hello there to all my old fur-comrades. I hope you have all made it through the silly season and come out the other side into 2012 relatively unscathed. I have managed to live through another year with my senior owner, and survive the influx of visitors and family into our quiet domain, just as I like it to be now that I have reached my pensioner milestones.

I am still going strong, and pleased to be here for yet another year. Some are getting worried about me because my eyes don’t see as well and my hearing is going a little, but my sense of smell is keen and I can smell my dinner from well over 20 metres away on a windy day, so I’m alright. As long as I live, breath and eat, I’m still here.

Happy New Year to you all…especially my old comrades who are celebrating with me. Until next time…

Hello there old fur-comrades. Good to be here for another installment on the ins and outs of the senior fur-child in the ranks.

I’ve been doing the rounds of the neighbourhood these last few weeks, as the darling of the older-female-dog-lover-set in the neighbourhood. I have to say, I’m a firm favourite with a lot of the ladies around these parts. I might be a bit older, but I’m holding my age well and my devastating good looks haven’t faded a bit. It also helps to be obedient and house-trained. I’m always on my best behaviour when I’m visiting the senior women’s network in these parts, because my reputation for being a senior-lady-fur-killer gets around. This ensures me with more of the best of everything. More treats, more attention, more cuddles, more grooming. Everybody wants to take me home! I can have my pick of luxury at any time. When my senior owner is indisposed, there’s almost a hen-fight to see who is going to get to take care of me.

Oh what a life!

Hello there old fur-comrades. I’m back again today and feeling pretty good about myself, I can tell you. I’m not feeling any bit older than I was a few weeks ago. In fact, I’m feeling fighting fit and ready for action in the trenches.

I’ve been ‘palmed off’ again by my senior owner..for want of a better phrase, to be strung out to dry at that young snapper, Angus’, place for the last week or so. I’m not really liking it all that much, but I’m once again fighting for my territory and I have set a few boundaries for the young buck to abide by.

I’m making it plain that I’m the boss, and I’m entitled to the benefits of the softest bed, the best lounge, the plumpest pillows and the lions share of the pickings at meal times. I’ve managed to hold my fort pretty well, and all this testiness has put a spring in my step and an arc to my bark. I’m feeling great!

Nothing like a bit of competition to keep you on your toes I say.

Hello there old fur-comrades. I’ve been getting some extra attention lately as my senior owner has been under the weather and I’ve been temporarily adopted by a lovely old lady who I think would like to dog-nap me and keep me permanently. I’ve been overfed, over-scratched, and over-pampered..but I’m not over myself, as I could always use a few extra hands on deck to lend a scratch or two to those hard-to-reach places.

Yes, I’ve had it really good old fur-comrades, and I’m a bit reluctant to go back to my heated and fur-lined bed and chicken dinners in the near future. I’m not saying that I don’t miss my senior owner – I do…but I’m going to miss those gourmet feasts and the five-star treatment I’m getting right now.

Maybe I can negotiate a contract of convenience in the near future…

Until next time…

Hello there old fur-comrades. It’s good to be here once again. I’m feeling chipper and ready to run around again. I’ve been a bit under the weather lately, but I’m pleased to report that I’m back on track and running faster than my senior owner to the front gate to check the post.

I’ve been staying with that young snapper, Angus, once again these last few days and we’ve all been cooped up in the house because of the rain. It’s been hazardous, I can tell you, trying to assert my authority once again and rule the roost. I’ve managed to find a nice spot on the lounge to keep out of his way most of the time, but every now and again he jumps me when I leave my position and I have to dig in and defend my territory. I find that making a lot of noise and standing my ground is the best defence. Angus is not the braveheart he thinks he is, and usually backs down a peg or two when in danger of being bitten. Not that I can bite, I have few teeth left these days. But he doesn’t know that.

Until next time…

Hello there old fur-comrades. Well the winter chills are here and I’ve been keeping a low profile on my heated bed inside these last few weeks. I’ve been a bit under the weather and have had a few aches and pains, but I’m managing just fine with my food, and that’s the main thing.

I’ve been staying with my senior owner’s family for a few weeks, and I have to say that that young snapper Angus is getting on my nerves. I’m not as quick as I used to be, but what I lack in pace I make up for in a quick snap and stand-off in the front yard to put him in his place. It’s getting so a senior dog can’t get any peace and shut-eye these days.

I’m looking forward to my chicken, mince and vegetable dinner tonight fur-comrades. Cooked especially for my old toothless palate. Seniority has its benefits, I can tell you.

Until next time…

Greetings old fur-comrades. In the next few weeks I will be reporting on my progress on Blackmores PAW (Pure Animal Wellbeing) range, Osteosupport Joint care Powder for Dogs, and Osteocare Joint Health Chews.

I’m pretty fussy fur-comrades, so it’s going to take a lot to get past my k9 taste quality control checks, I can tell you. I’m also looking forward to reporting my progress in regards to outdoing my senior owner, who is on some osteo supplements of his own.

Until next week…

Greetings old fur-comrades. It’s good to be here once again.  I’m feeling fighting fit today and ready for action. My senior owner has been asked to try me out on a new osteo supplement for dogs. I’ve been on Blackmores PAW (Pure Animal Wellbeing) Osteosupport Joint Care Powder for Dogs and PAW Osteocare Joint Health Chews for a couple of weeks now and I have to say that I’ve taken to climbing the stairs to achieve my goals of late.

I’m not saying that I’m running up  the stairs yet, but I’m climbing. The ability to climb the stairs is very important for my wellbeing. I get to make it inside to my comfortable heated day bed without having to suffer the indignity of barking (in my books, begging) to be allowed to be carried up the stairs into my own home.

The Ostesupport powder gets sprinkled into my food, and the Osteocare Chews are a pretty tasty little treat, I can tell you. The chews are soft for those of us that are lacking in the dental department, but my senior owner breaks them up into smaller pieces so I can scoff at my leisure.

I’ll be reporting in the next few weeks and months how I’m going on the supplements, and my adventures in lieu of my new-found mobility. I’m raring to go old comrades, that’s for sure!

Until next time…

Hello there old fur-comrades. I’m back again today with winter tales of wonder and woe. The woe being that I have been forced once again off my luxuriously warm senior day bed for a winter clean and dust… and the ‘wonder’ of why my senior owner is bothering at all.

My senior owner is all in a flap that he’s actually becoming senior. I don’t know why he can’t be like me and lie back and enjoy his senior years in the comfort he’d like to become accustomed to…before it’s too late to enjoy anything at all.

My senior daft owner is madly cleaning and clearing. I’m staying well out of his way in case he accidentally clears me out and forgets where I am. Sadly this has happened on one occasion, and I was left with an awful tale to tell when I was rescued from the skip bin after howling up a storm.  Unfortunately I had decided to take a nap in a comfy old camphor chest that was designated for the dump. I was lucky I had a good set of vocals and my senior owner had his hearing aids in.

Until next time when the dust settles…

Hello there old fur-comrades. Well I’m still alive and kicking in the cold Winter chill, although the only moving I’ve been doing lately is from my heated bed to the lambskin rug in front of the fire place. I’ve feeling a tad shivery these days, and I’m often seen wearing my coat, as my own coat is thinning out at the back end. I find this a little embarrassing, probably as embarrassing as my senior owner finds his thinning up top. We deal with our problems in much the same way, we cover them up and hope for the best.

I’ve also developed a few cysts and moles, just like my senior owner – and like my senior owner, I’m off to get them checked out very shortly – to our respective practitioners. I’m not getting too worked up about it all, until I see the vets table of course, then it’s battle stations and battening down every hatch possible, including my nether regions for the dreaded temperature taking. Don’t understand why this is always necessary, especially when it’s not that end of me that’s the problem.

Until next time…

Hello there old fur-comrades. Well I’m still here, and I’m enjoying the winter nibblies and extra heating that my senior owner is supplying for our mutual benefit. I’ve been given a top of the range heated doggy bed that warms my old bones. I’m not too keen to get off it though, and if my senior owner hankers to go for a walk out there in the elements, he’s on his own this season.

Until next time…

Hello old fur-comrades, it’s good to be here once again as another Winter approached and my old bones are being soothed by the heater. I was thrilled when my senior owner decided to bring out the heating contraption early this year to heat HIS old bones, as he’s getting a bit like me and more inclined to rug up before rugging up is necessary. He’s taken to putting a heating pad on his armchair at night and it’s a senior fight to see who gets on it first. Ican tell you fur-comrades, I can put up quite a fight when my personal comfort is involved, and I can usually outgun the old boy when it comes to holding the bladder. Sooner or later he has to get up and go, and I move into the best position and dig in for the night. I didn’t get my nickname ‘Barnacle Bob’ for nothing you know. I can cling on with the best of them.

Until next time…

Hello there old fur-comrades, it’s good to be here for another instalment.  I’m generally happy to be anywhere for an instalment, as long as it includes some fine food and a nap on a nice comfy bed.

Recently I was subjected to the indignity of the annual vet visit for my vaccination. I was feeling pretty chipper until I was put onto the examination table and was poked and jabbed by all sorts of strange uncomfortable instruments. And that was just a build up to the final jab with a very large needle (well, large to me). I had nowhere to go fur-comrades, I had enemies flanking my left and right, and not a tunnel in sight to hole up in.

I was offered some nice liver treats at the end of my ordeal, and as nice as they were, it will be a long time before I will be lulled into a false sense of security again. I’ll be ready next time fur-comrades…

Until next time…

Hello there old fur-comrades. It’s good to be here again, along with my senior owner, to run the gauntlet of another day in the trenches.

I’m a bit miffed lately, as I have been confined to the house on a permanent basis.  The property behind ours has been demolished and they are in the processes of building a new fence. Of course my senior owner has become more than a little concerned that I might get out and wander off into the sunset never to be seen again.

The reality of my situation is, fur-comrades, that apart from my usual abolutions – morning, evening, and the occasional slow walk around the block – I don’t generally ‘wander off.’  I haven’t reached my age without learning a thing or two about ‘bad cars’ and the comforts of home, so the chances of my disappearing into the sunset are about zero to none.

Although my senior owner and I can reach those dizzy mental heights of our youth in our dreams…a reality check once the old feet hit the floor in the morning can soon bring us into focus once more.  We don’t move fast and we don’t move far….either of us.

Until next time.

Hello there old fur-comrades, hope you aren’t doing it too tough in this week’s heat wave.  I’ve been lucky enough to find myself a nice cool spot where the air-conditioner airflow hits the floor. If I lay on my back with my legs in the air, it hits my chest just nicely, thank you very much.

My senior owner has been grumbling recently about getting some new false teeth. He thinks he’s got problems!  I haven’t had many teeth to speak of for years, so I have to gum most of my food. They don’t make false teeth for old dogs, you know.  He’s also been complaining about having to use his walking stick more frequently….hmmmpphh!  I’d like to see him get about on MY hindquarters for a few weeks, and not have the luxury of even being able to purchase a nice new walking stick to lean on.

If only I could talk!  We would be two old senior comrades in arms, grumbling about our senior ailments to all who will listen, and all who can’t get away.  I have almost perfected my long-winded pained groaning, however – which is almost as good as grumbling. While my senior owner grumbles about his ailments, I am gaining much more valuable attention with some groaning of my own.  I may be a senior, but I still have my cute disposition and good looks…

Until next time….

Greetings old fur-comrades. I hope that you are like me, and fighting fit for another day in the doggy trenches. I’m still pretty keen to go a few rounds in the front yard and bail up the neighbour’s cat on the fence. I may not be as agile and fast as I used to be, but I make up for it in stealth. It’s amazing what an old dog can accomplish if he just goes about things in a different way.

I have a different way of doing most things these days. I used to be able to jump up onto the lounge and the bed..and probably still could if I put my mind to it..but why jump when all you have to do is beg and look sorrowful to achieve your goal? I still enjoy a walk or two, but employ failsafe methods if it all gets too much – laying down on my back with my tongue hanging out ensures that I get to enjoy the view while being carried halfway back to the house.  I tend to sleep a bit more these days, but there’s nothing wrong with my hearing – I can hear a fridge door opening at a hundred paces, and there seems to be nothing wrong with my speed and agility when negotiating the household furniture to make it too my food bowl.

Here’s to another year of aging gracefully and furball seniority!

Hello to all my old fur-comrades out there.  I’m still here and happy to report a reasonable good resolve for the new year ahead. I’ve had all my shots and vet checks and I’m ready to go.

My senior owner gave me a scare the other day when he decided that I needed a trim around the eyes. Personally I think the old boy is just jealous because I have more hair than he does, and his scissor-trigger fingers where giving me the willies as he wielded them closer to my optics than I would have liked.

He has the senior shakes you know, which is worse than my senior shakes, because I don’t get to hold scissors and other sharp and dangerous implements. He managed to do a reasonable job of restoring my vision without taking my eye out, so I suppose I should be grateful.

I have instigated an escape and hide plan for when I next see the glint of steel shaking in my future general direction.

Until next time…

Hello old fur-comrades. I’m coming to you today from my luxury sheepskin bed, which I can’t seem to pull myself out of today. It’s so comfortable and the weather isn’t much to speak of, or go out in either.

We old dogs feel the weather changes a bit more than our younger counterparts, and I can tell you, all this rain makes for more aches and pains than you can poke a stick at, not to mention all the extra itching and scratching that one has to do to combat prickly heat and humidity as well.

My senior owner had to cart me off to the vet, I was scratching myself raw. Turns out that the weather might have something to do with my itchy situation, but I was none too happy about being jabbed with a cortisone injection to stop the itch, and bombarded with various creams and potions to make me feel better. I can tell you fur-comrades, I didnt’ feel much better at the time!

I have to admit that I am much more comfortable today, and prepared to accept my dotage for the time being with my senior owner, relaxing in our respective senior positions and staying out of the elements. I’m supposed to go back to the vet for a checkup, but I can tell you I’m fine and I don’t need to be poked and prodded just to prove a point.

Until next time….

Hello old fur-comrades. It’s good to be here for another year. Well, I’ve made it through the ups and downs of senior living for another twelve months, and I have to say that I’ve had more downs than ups and some hefty vet bills.

My senior owner is still getting over my last visit to the vet recently. Wasn’t too much wrong with me that a few antibiotics and some ear cream couldn’t fix, but the cost fur-comrades, the cost! I think my senior owner must be helping to pay off the vet’s brand new BMW parked in the driveway. My senior owner has been grumbling about it for days, but like anything, as you get older the maintenance becomes more expensive. In my experience, prevention has always been the best cure, and a few walks and a good lifestyle have gone a long way to helping me age as gracefully as I can.

I’ve still got it senior comrades! I’m back for another year, and as good as new after a tune up at the vet. I may be expensive, but I’m the best doggone companion that a senior owner can have. God bless my little cute furry self.

Until next time…

Hello there old fur-comrades. Season’s greetings to all. I’m making the most of the peace and quiet at the moment, in my old reclining dog bed, before the relatives descend upon me, and bring that young snapper Angus, who is intent on making what’s left of my life a total misery.

I have a few tricks up my sleave to achieve the peace that I crave this Christmas.

• Be especially nice and friendly to everyone this year, wag my tail a lot and perfect my begging technique for sitting on a sympathetic human’s lap. Any human will do. It gets me off the ground and away from Angus, who can’t reach me.
• Polish perfected begging technique even further to acquire the best tidbits once on sucker human’s lap. Will have the added bonus of driving Angus nuts.
• Growl menacingly at Angus when on the ground, but only when out of human earshot. Don’t want to upset any relatives or children and be banned from future festivities.
• If all else fails, hide under senior owner’s bed. Angus can’t reach me under there. Make note to each lunch beforehand, it could be a long siege.

Until next time fur-comrades. Happy New Year to all!!

Greetings old fur-comrades. It’s good to be here once again for another year. I’m grateful I’ve actually made it through another year with my senior owner, and now we are planning to have the rellies over for Christmas lunch.

Of course, I’m excited – mostly about the special treats that I will receive and the odd luxury item for my old age indulgence. I’m not excited about that young Angus snapper coming over and spoiling the ambience of my quiet and comfortable existence by running all over the place barking at the neighbours and jumping all over me and riding me like a surfboard.

It’s about time somebody put him in his place, and I’m just the fur-ball to do it. Seniority rules in these parts fur-comrades, and I’m not about to take another fur-harassment on my own turf.

Stay tuned for regular updates…

Greetings old fur-comrades. It’s good to be here again. I’ve been braving the elements as my senior owner has decided to get out and about – albeit briefly – and I’ve tagged along in all kinds of weather – rain, wind, and extreme heat. I’m a loyal companion, I am, but I was thinking about lodging a verbal and physical complaint until my senior owner decided I needed a helping hand here and there, and purchased a doggy ramp.

While, like my senior owner, I’m reluctant to admit that I have to use ‘old folk’ aids occasionally, I’m rapt with the ramp, as I can descend and ascend at my leisure now, without waiting and experiencing the humiliation of being carried down the stairs to conduct my rituals, and carried up again.

Nobody is complaining now, fur-comrades, least of all me…who can get up quite a speed going down the ramp into the garden to chase that pesky neighbourhood moggy infiltrating my territory. Read more about ramps… http://www.buzzle.com/articles/dog-ramps-independence-at-home-on-the-road.html

Until next time…

Hello there old fur-comrades. I’d like to say I’m doing it tough, as a tough little old senior dog, but I’m not. It’s hot folks, but I’m privy to some half decent airconditioning today and lots of cold drinks, as my senior owner prepares for the Summer season this year – which they say is going to be a hot one. My tip for all you senior dogs out there is to find a nice cool spot to stay and stake your claim as soon as possible.

I’m due to go to the vet for my annual senior checkup very shortly, which is pretty hard to get out of really, as the vet is only about 10 short steps next door to my home. I’d like to bank on my senior owner’s short memory span for that one, but alas, the vet clinic is reasonably dilligent in sending out reminder letters for anything that I may need. Usually that young snapper, Angus comes over to see me, and we all go together to the clinic. As the senior spokes person of the group, I’d like to say that I’m cool, calm and collected most of the time….but put me on the slab in the vet clinic and I’m sinking into the table like a sucker fish. My theory is the smaller you make yourself, the less chance they have of seeing you. Hasn’t worked thus far, but here’s hoping. I think I’ll let that young snapper, Angus, go second this time, so that it’s over and done with and I get to gloat as the big sook wets himself in fear as the vet gives him the once over… nice thought really, except that it’s happening to me as well.

Until my next instalment …

Greetings old fur-comrades. It’s good to be hear in on my comfy cushioned lambskin comforter and in the airconditioning today, as the weather warms up and the great outdoors doesn’t look so great for a poor old senior doggy citizen such as myself.

As I get older, it becomes more difficult to regulate the temperature of my body, so it is essential to monitor my condition for signs of heat stress.  My senior owner makes sure that I am always in a cool and comfortable condition with plenty of water at my disposal when needed.

Our short strolls around the block are out at present, especially in the heat of the day, when anyone can get knocked around by the force of the sun, not just we oldies. Better to stick to the early morning walkies or late afternoon – early evening strolls for the vigilant enthusiasts amongst us.

Until next time…

Hello there old fur-comrades. I’ve been keeping a low profile the last few days and my tail down, as the weather heats up and I stay cool by staying put….in the airconditioning that is. As marvellous as an air-cond abode is, one must go out occasionally for a toilet break, so I tend to stick to the shady spots and not run randomly out into the sun just because the next door neighbour’s dog is a young and stupid Chihauhau who thinks he’s a Pit bull. It’s tempting because I’m slightly bigger and a definitely more experienced combatant, but one must exercise caution when one is a little crinkly and creaky.

Anyway, I’m back in the airconditioning and lying on my lambskin bedding while Chihauhau boy has to make do with a fan and a one inch pillow. It could be worse.

Until next time…

Hello there old fur-comrades. Good to be here on this fine Spring day. I’m springing around a bit myself with my senior owner, as he discover the delights of the new Spring flowers, and I discover the delights of new Spring lawns to poop on. Quality is better than quantity these days, so short olfactory informative walks are the order of the day, when we have the energy to get motivated.

I’m enjoying my twelfth Spring fur-comrades, and I have to say, even though I’m slowing down, life can still be good when you have a senior owner who understands the perils and ailments of senior citizenship. At least we are in sinc when we hobble in the mornings and groan in the evenings, when we retire to our respect arthritic mattresses and pillows. I’m looking forward to Summer, when my senior owner turns on the airconditioning and puts ice cubs in my water tray.

Until next time….

Hello to all you old fur-comrades out there. I hope life is treating you well and your companions are appreciating your senior citizen status in your household.

It can be a battle of wills in my digs for seniority, considering my senior owner is probably as senior as me, give or take two or three doggy years. Our mornings consist of comparing grunts as we stretch and bend, and that’s just getting out of bed.

I’m glad we reside in a one level home these days, because just getting out the backdoor to relieve myself can be an issue down just one step – which can become complicated when my senior owner forgets to leave the doggy door unlocked. If all goes well I’m back in my bed before he gets out of the bathroom. If not, then I’m under the bed, until my senior owner cleans up my mess. Hey, I can’t help it…I have the plumbing of an old well-worked system.

I still consider myself a well-oiled machine however, as does my senior owner, and we can be seen in the front yard on occasion, strutting our stuff with the gardening, he weeding and me digging, until we realise that we may have overdone it and retire inside for refreshments and a decent nap.

Youth may be for the young, but age is for the experienced and the deserving…until next time fur-comrades.

Hello to all you old fur-comrades out there. I’ve been out and about with my senior owner on a mission to visit as many rellies as possible in the shortest amount of time. I think my senior owner is worried about old age catching up with him and is getting everything out of the way before he kicks the bucket. So I go along and suffer, but not in silence, to the indiginities of children poking at me and rellies’ fur balls trying it on. I’m allowed the occasional growl to set the record straight, but biting and snarling are a definite no-no. No one need worry anyway, I barely have any teeth left, but it’s the thought that counts. I’ve been lucky enough to secure some fine tidbits in the last few days, from sympathetic admirers who know about my senior owner’s lack of ingenuity in the culinary stakes – so all hasn’t been lost and it hasn’t all been for naught. I think I’ve gained a few pounds as well. Makes it a little difficult to climb onto my favourite sofa, but the lower delights of the padded day bed are achievable. Old dogs and beggars can’t be choosers.

Until next time….

Hello old fur-comrades. It’s good to be here once again. I’ve been inspired today by the warm weather and the sunshine. My senior owner is out and about and taking on all the new projects he can find. I’m accompanying him around the yard on most of his efforts, all though I do get a bit tired of his endless new ideas laying unfinished around my areas. Can’t a dog get any privacy? While I have my senior moments too, I have more doggy moments, and I like to have the benefit of the same area to relieve myself once in a while. It gets a bit hard when it’s covered in old bbq’s, spare parts, and new bits to fit old bits.

Oh well, I hope my senior owner has stocked up on the paper towels as well on his recent shopping trips. I suspect that he will be needing to mop up around the place in a little while.

Until next time…

Hello there old fur-comrades. Another week has passed and my senior owner has returned from his trip, without me, without even an apology for his absence. I’m feeling a bit left out of things, and more than a bit peed off that I had to suffer the indignity of being with that young snapper, Angus, for the better part of the last week. There were growls all round, I can tell you, as I readjusted to my position in senior doggy management to put him in his place.

I hope that my senior owner realises that we are both too old for any more road trips and stress, and better off sharing the delights of afternoon naps on our respective comfortable armchairs together in airconditioned comfort.

Hello old fur-comrades, its good to be here again.  My senior fur-companion has decided that he is going to have a week or two away, and he is going to visit his senior friends in another state. Unfortunately his holiday plans don’t include me, and I’ve been packed off to my senior owner’s family for the duration. Even more unfortunate, is that this arrangement means that I have to run the gauntlet with that young snapper Angus, who tends to think that he’s the boss of the show, not me. It’s seniority that rules the roost as far as I’m concerned, not whose place it is that you are practicing the seniority in!

I hope my senior owner is misses me and decides to come home early, or I will have to take drastic measures to secure my area. Stay tuned…

Hello to all you senior fur-citizens out there. I’m feeling fine, fit and fiesty as I congratulate myself for taking on that young snapper Angus and emerging victoriously from our latest stoush. Thinks he can get the better of me eh? I might be old, but I’m not an old fool.  I just wait until I know that I have the upper hand and move in for the kill, or in this case, a nice little nip and a nudge of my favourite sleeping chairs. Sent him flying onto the floor and running to his mum, I did. Gravtiy had nothing to do with it, it was advantage and fair play that won the day.

So don’t you worry about leaving the old fur-boy for dead. I’m still around and gaining ground. And I plan to be around for a while longer to ward off any invaders of my turf in the future. You have been warned Angus. He who dares wins!

Back next week after my victory lap…

Hello there fur-comrads. It’s good to be here. At my age, it’s good to be anywhere. I don’t usually like to brag, but I’m the most senior member of the family, even older than my senior owner these days. In dog years, I can overtake him easily if I stick around for another couple of years. I’m in pretty good health, and I get looked after very well. I enjoy the occasional romp on the beach, although I don’t romp much anymore, just the slow skip over a piece of driftwood is enough for me. I enjoy the fresh air and the chance to dig my toes into the sand, although I develop a nasty itch when I get home and my senior owner has to remove all the sand off my person as soon as we get home. I have to say that this is something that has developed in my senior years, as I didn’t have anything like this as a youngster when sand was my best friend. I guess ageing has a downside, as well as the upside of big heated doggy beds, coats, and more recently a carpeted doggy step so my senior legs can get up on the lounge.

Until next time….

Hello to all you old fur-troopers out there. I’d like to add my comments on doggy incontinence, if I may. Yes, it can happen to all of us at times, moreso as we get a little older. I’m not saying that I suffer too much from incontinence – my senior companion has more incontinent days than what I do – but I’m saying that it happens. And there’s no need to feel embarassed at all – no, not when it’s not your fault that they don’t open the door quickly enough or it’s getting too far to walk to the back door, so I don’t both3er. 

I’m not too fussed on my senior companion’s suggestions about night-time senior dog nappies. Let him try them out, I say, and let me know how he feels waddling about like a toddler in plastic trainers. It’s not good for the image, and I’m all about image and respect – as I’m the senior member of the household, I’ve been around long enough now to expect a little more of it. I don’t think my senior owner enjoys cleaning up a big pile of torn up doggy nappies topped up with a little reminder that I can pee where I please.

Until next time …

Hello to all you grumpy old dogs out there. I have to say fellow fur-comrads, I have had a bit to grumble about in the last few days. I’m not sure who’s got more winter aches and pains these days, me or my senior owner. I’m usually pretty keen to get out there and go for a walk, but the lure of my new heated bed was too much for me today.  I was all ready to snuggle up into my comfy cushioned heated ninth wonder of the world, and SOMEBODY forgot to turn it on. Folks, I may be a clever senior dog, but I’m not that clever. Somebody needs to write somebody a note for my senior comfort, and its not me!  I would complain to the management, but around these parts, I AM the management, which works well most days….except when you can’t reach  the on/off switch.

Until next time…

Hello to my fellow fur-comrads out there battling along with your senior aches and pains in the Winter chill.

I have recently aquired a new fur lined jacket, as my senior Dad was feeling the cold, and thought that I would like to look as silly as him in a blue fur lined, water proof parker with red trim – I got the red trim, he didn’t.

I don’t mind the jacket, senior dogs, although it’s a bit bulky and it can be difficult to negotiate the stairs when one looks and feels like a padded brick. It’s the hood that I can’t stand. It serves no useful purpose, it gets in my eyes and falls about my ears. I’m a little blind and half deaf as it is, I don’t need any help.

It’s all these fashion nuts out there that think that their pampered fur-balls actually need warm ears because they do. It’s a lucrative little business for those that are keyed in to the wants and desires of the pet pampering set, I’ll tell you.

Personally, I think the world has gone mad. Until next time…

Hello all you old codger dogs out there. I’m feeling my age today after a gruelling walk around the block at a rapid pace with the grandkids. No, senior folk-dogs, sprinting for your life as you get dragged along like a bouncy sack of potatoes is not for the likes of me. That’s the thanks you get for your years of sound service and loyalty. Palmed off to the miniature urban terrorists for an hour for a bit of senior shut-eye. In future I will thwart any attempts at senior participation in senior-dog-sabotage, and stage my own revival of world war two, on my own terms. Bring back the good old days of respect for your elders, and doggy-kind, I say. Until next time…

Hello to all you fur-seniors out there.  I’m still recovering from a drive in the car yesterday. I’m all for driving around and going from one destination to the other. It’s usually quite pleasant. I get to look out the window and take in the scenery with my senior owner. But yesterday was different. I went for a drive with Angus and his Mum. My senior nerves are still feeling the pain of being barked at, climbed on, jumped over and pushed onto the floor for leverage so Angus could see out the window. A growl and a nasty nip on his nether-regions soon sent him packing. Once I had the back seat to myself I commandeered the highest point and stayed there. The higher you are, the more chance you have of defending your territory. And defend it I did, with gusto, senior fur-comrads. There’s a lot of life in the old fur boy yet. I needed a nice hot meal and my lovely heat pack to get over the experience, however. Until next time…

Hello senior fur-dogs. I’ve been noticing a chill in the night air of late and my natural winter coat is not what it used to be. My added bonus is that I have a senior owner that probably feels the cold just as much as I do, and goes to great lengths to keep his extremeties warm. I like to cash in on the heat bonuses when I can.

I’ve recently commandeered the new wheat heat pack. Makes a great bed warmer, but a better old-dog warmer that’s lying on the bed at the time. My senior owner has given up trying to get it out from underneath me and has gone and got his own. I’m waiting for them to invent the senior dog heatable vest, so I can leave the comfort of the bed and venture outside once again.

Hello to all you senior fur-kids out there. It’s Mr D at the helm again, still fighting fit and, as I discovered yesterday, able to dig a hole or two without working up a sweat. Yes, I know dogs don’t sweat, it’s just a figure of speech… show a bit of respect for your elders. I’m rather pleased with my efforts fellow pensioner adventureres, but don’t overdo it, or you could pull a hamstring, or worse, your pensioner owner could fall into the hole and wind up in the local hospital. And then somebody else will have to look after you – which in my case is with that young snapper, Angus and his Mum. I’m looking forward to getting back home, after I show Angus a thing or two about how to inflict pain when you don’t have any teeth. Until next time…

Hello once again to the senior citz in the community. I’m not talking about the human variety of course, once again I’m speaking to those faithful old and long time winter foot warmers that all of you grey haired human brigade take for granted. Yes, we are here in all our glory, forgotten on the trail of life and sometimes like me – occasionally left outside in the dark for a tad too long when my senior citz dad forgets I’m out there. If his hearing aid isn’t in, then I can be out there for ages before some long suffering neighbour bangs on his door and lets me inside instead. Howls of pain work for me, anyways.

Lets talk about the quality of the digs. Are your beds and winter coats up to scratch now that winter is approaching? I have to say that you need to get in early for this one, as some doddering old owners can be worse than their doddering old dogs. Find that coat and drag it around with you if you must. Sooner or later, your human companion – be it young OR old – will get the message. If your bedding isn’t doing for you anymore, then it’s time to expect more comfortable arrangements. Try sitting at the foot of the bed or lounge, and if you are too old to jump – wait. Old, cute and patient works just as well as any young whipper snapper’s shananigans. If all else fails, rip up the offending material (the old bed), look really sad, sorry and shake a little, and chances are a new one will materialise the next day.

Until next time.

Hello to all you senior fur-balls once again. I’m logging in just to let you know that I’m alive and well and still grumbling when the mood suits. As I have mentioned, apart from being a grumble-dog, which I believe is part of my rights as a more respected member of my household, I don’t seem to have some of the major afflictions that plague our more senior members of the fur-ball fraternity, at least not yet, anyways. I can’t jump up on the bed anymore, but I’ll still have a go at the lounge. Sometimes there can be a bit of a ping-back if I hit the wrong spot, and I end up on the floor again, but with my bones intact readers, so I’m still going strong!

Some of the worries that have been mentioned to my Dad from other senior citizen dog owners have been senility. The older dog will go off their food, or forget to eat (god forbid I should go without my chicken snack), and in more extreme cases, not recognising their owners and actually growling at them. I believe that this behaviour would come more from confusion than an actual dislike of a much loved human family member, or in my case, if a human steps on my tail or removes me from the lounge before I’m ready. Senility can be as common in the older dog as it is in humans. And like humans, some dogs are particularly partial to it, and some are not. The little dog (like myself), seems to be more resistant to the ‘getting old fast’ dilemma. Thankfully I still have my faculties together, and can deal with that pain in the fur-butt, Angus J annoying dog.

Until the next round of citz bitz …

Hello again to all those grumpy old dogs out there. Winter is fast approaching in my neck of the woods, and I’ve been nudging the bottom draw where my coat is kept. My grumpy old Dad is not getting the hint though, so I’m making him go out more in the middle of the night so he can experience it for himself. We must all suffer for the cause, I’m afraid, as we are not getting any younger. I’m still up for a bit of a walk around the block though, and retain my youthful vigour for a full five minutes until we hit the corner and I have to be carried the rest of the way. Dad’s got me on the ‘senior diet’. I think he should take a leaf out of his own senior book and try the senior diet too. I don’t think it’s much chop, although I have lost a couple of pounds around the middle. On the upside, I haven’t had to engage in a physcial entanglement with that young snapper Angus, who tends to think I’m a skateboard and balances sideways on my back as I try to make a run for it. This, by the way, is NOT funny, for those of you who are getting a visual image right about now.

I’m back with a few tips for the older and more discerning grumpy old dog. I’ve been around for long enough to know that a dog can’t get by just on bad manners and barking at the postman. You have to have style and personality as well. If you’re house trained, well mannered when asked to be, you can get away with being a grumpy old fur-ball occasionally. You’ve also been around long enough to have built up a special relationship with Mum and Dad with lots of memories. This means seniority on the fur-kid Richter Scale, Angus you young whipper-snapper, and don’t you forget it.

I’m back. You can’t keep an old dog down. Once again I’ve weathered the indignity of having to watch that young smart snapper, Angus, jump up on MY lounge and rustle up my favourite blanket. I’m glad he only comes over for visits. People wonder why I’m cranky, but it’s not because I’m older. I’ve got it all worked out you know, because I’ve been around for a while, and I’ve got a few tips for the older members of the fur-kid fraternity to live by. Watch this space.

Hello. Hello again. The name’s Dylan, or as I like to be called, Mr D – as a mark of respect for the years of service as loyal companion and chief foot-warmer. I’ve been around for 11 years now, and I am a doggy senior citizen. Apart from a few missing teeth and a weight issue, of which I will discuss in a later blog, I’m small, with attitude, and I have a lot to say being the older member of the family. Watch this space…