A Life of Dependency

For twenty minutes and forty-eight seconds the

ninety-nine year old jogged steadily in the

mid-morning, mid-winter Phoenix sun.

Done, he stopped at the bottom of the flight

home. He just stared up the stairs.

He didn’t want to climb.

But he did.  What was the alternative?

After ice water, pain pill and a cold

pack on his head, he made one more

grand effort, plopped himself on the couch

and slept away the noon and afternoon until

his bladder was full.  When he awoke,

he looked around hoping his jogging

partners were home to help him relieve

himself.  It’s a life of dependency for

an old chocolate lab.