I love it when the human puts a new roll of toilet paper on before leaving for work.

Helps me to keep busy during the day.

Just when I thought we were finished with hot, humid weather, we were hit with a rainy, super humid day yesterday. Not good on the old bones!

We got the xray results at the vet. Turns out, my spondylosis has spread to about two thirds of my back, from my shoulders to tailbone. The vertebrae have bridged mid-back (which makes me stiff) but have yet to bridge near my tailbone (which makes me hurt). My one hip is awesome - in great shape, as are my neck, elbows and knees. My other hip has some dysplasia, but it's not horrific. The doctor said that, if she didn't see any dysplasia in a nine year old GSD, she would have been shocked.

That explains the soreness.

Great news is that she doesn't want the human to limit my activity. I need to keep my muscles strong - we just have to learn to listen to my body (ok, I have to learn to listen to my body and refrain from following my basic instinct to run after things when I'm sore).

Kind of a drag to be dealing with spondylosis, but, it is what it is.

The human is trying cartophen shots to see if that helps my discomfort and, if that doesn't work, we'll move on to Metacam. I still get delicious fish oil on my food every day for the Omega 3s too!

I was limping a lot this weekend after a lot of running at Bronte, so we took it easy on the walks.

Made for a rather boring weekend.

I tried again to eat an acorn yesterday.

Still not very palatable.

Kept it in my mouth for awhile, until the human noticed and took it away so I wouldn't choke on it.

Guess I'll add acorns to the very short list of things I prefer not to consume.

Yesterday's hike can only be described with one word.

Bliss.

Sure, the weather was perfect. Sunny, a tinge of fall in the air. The leaves at Bronte are starting to change, first signs of red popping out. Squirrels are busy gathering nuts for winter. We parked in Lot F and headed to the creek trail, which meant I was headed for a swim and a romp in the water.

None of those things made the day so blissful, however.

No.

It was the bog mud.

And the pig crap.

I was the dirtiest I think I've ever been, and I loved it.

She didn't notice I had lept from the boardwalk in the bog until it was too late. The mud was so thick, I was sinking and had trouble walking. I rolled around in it to ensure I was thoroughly covered - even mashed my face into it. When I came up, my head was caked in dark bog mud. I couldn't see! So, I stumbled over to some marsh grasses and ran my face through it, clearing my eyes and nose.

Euphoric, I climbed back onto the boardwalk, caked from head to toe in thick, stinky bog mud.

Just to ensure the human didn't miss out on the experience, I shook, covering her from head to toe in black splotches.

She was wearing a white t-shirt. She appeared to be thrilled.

We made our merry way toward the creek. I ran the last few feet and flung myself with joy into a deep part of the water. Billows of black mud spread out around me. I chased a few sticks, played in the water with a 6-month old German shepherd whose name escapes me, and, once satiated, pounced into some tall grasses to roll around.

The mud on my body was less striking by now, but my head was still nice and thick with it, so my roll in the grass accessorized my wet furry bod with various grasses and burrs.

We continued the hike, me, prancing proudly, her, well, laughing, shaking her head, that sort of thing.

I suppose she thought I was finished.

However, we had yet to reach the pig barn.

Once we did, I flopped down for a nice roll in some pig poo.

My ensemble complete, I settled into the front seat of the car (editor's note: on her waterproof seat cover, all four car windows open wide, human gagging) and surveyed my world proudly as we drove home.

That, my friends, is true bliss.

I'm aging.

There's no denying it.

More often on our walks, I sit down and I don't want to move for awhile.

Sometimes, I lie down in the grass to rest.

My joints ache when I get up in the morning, and when I rise up after a nap.

I sleep more, and like to go to bed earlier than before.

My snout is more gray, and there are gray hairs showing up on my ears and belly now.

If I run, I'm sore for a few days afterward.

Lesli's taking me for xrays this week so they can try to figure out why I walk so slowly, limp sometimes, and have taken to lying down for rests on our strolls. They'll try medications or whatever to ease any discomfort I'm having because of getting older.

But the reality is, I'm a nine year old German shepherd - not a puppy anymore. So I'm going to show signs of age.

As hard as it is for my human to accept, I'm not going to live forever. My life will be shorter than hers, and she cannot stop it. I'll continue to slow down. Our walks will become strolls - they'll be shorter but take just as long as they used to when we covered miles and miles of territory. I won't run as much - and when I do run, I'll pay for it. My joy in life will take on more of a quiet grace than reckless abandon. Sleep will become more precious and common to me.

All of that is ok - the way it's supposed to be.

I wish I could tell her it's ok. I'm grateful to her for her continued efforts to make me comfortable - but really, all I need is healthy food, plenty of time to rest, some nice strolls with different scenery and smells to enjoy and the steady companionship and love I've come to count on with her.

With that, we'll both be just fine.