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.