There are 3 seniors sharing my home with me. One lady and two old gentlemen. These three alone wouldn’t be so bad but the teenagers are driving me nuts. You see, they pick on these poor dear souls, harassing them and nipping at them and generally driving them and me nuts. In case you haven’t picked up on it those involved are of the critter variety. Gizmo, the grand dame of the pride, is almost 18 years old, the queen of the litter, is pretty laid back when it comes to the youngsters. Not afraid of standing her ground she pretty much rules the household by default. Fortunately for her she has no tail being of the Manx line and so the kitten of the bunch doesn’t mess with her too much. Pookah and Max, however, are another story.
Pookah, the Pomeranian, is a year younger than Gizmo though sometimes acts much younger despite his arthritis. He has always been a bit on the neurotic side, not quite sure if he’s canine or feline, and has taken on the worst traits of both breeds. He’s ferociously wimpish. He will fight to the death to protect me …. from the safety of under the bed boards. He will snarl and growl and bark at all intruders approaching the house. Until they enter the gate, that is. You guessed it. Then it’s off to the safety of the bed.
Max is also grumpy and as ferocious as Pook. Max is a few months younger than Pookah but Time has not been kind to him. He’s blind in both eyes, can barely hear, and is more stubborn than a mule. He’s a Brussels Griffon who is suffering from male-pattern baldness. He’s also on heart medication due to an enlarged heart. As the vet put it once, he’s in good condition for the condition he’s in. Max isn’t quite as jealous as Pookah. Pookah will snap and snarl at Max for looking in his direction. Poor Max can’t see an inch in front of him.
This makes things really interesting at night. You see, they all share the bed with me. Max takes his spot by my right ankle, Pookah by my right side. Gizmo gets right by my left ribcage with Babushka pushing his way between me and her. Kiki and Spit fight for my knees. The loser gets my stomach. I have approximately 3 seconds to get situated for the night and cannot move until the next morning when the alarm goes off. None of us are morning people and all wake up snarling at the world.
Yep, living with seniors can be fun and difficult but it is definitely an adventure. We all groan in the mornings as our joints pop and creak. We all shuffle to the kitchen to take our daily dose of medications that get our hearts pumping and our blood flowing. Compared to them I’m just a babe, compared to the teens I’m ancient. I guess I have to accept the fact that I truly am now among the Middle Aged. ACK!