Ching Ching I fear is growing old. His sight is not good. He has trouble negotiating stairs down, and won't go upstairs until I turn on the light. He doesn't always hear me until I "turn up my volume". He nestles close at night on the bed.
Some of this behavior increased after his longtime companion, Tater, passed away last year. Tater was an alpha dog, and kept Ching on the move, in line as it were. Miguelito is much younger and while he a good pal to Ching, but he is not a caretaker type. So Ching relies on me these days much more than he used to. And that's okay.
Ching lets me know when he doesn't want to go for the walk. And when he's had enough exercise, he stops, kerplunk, wherever he is. But he's always done that. He hates the heat. But he loves to eat. That's how I know he's doing okay. Sometimes I catch him just sitting motionless, staring into space. He is meditating. He's always meditated. I need to learn that practice from him.
I've had so many dogs and cats and birds over the years, its difficult to imagine life without at least one in the house. And each has had their own uniques personality. They all live their own separate lives while being the best of companions. Ching is no exception. In a minute we'll shut down the computer and make our way up the stairs to bed. Sometimes I think I will carry him. Then I realize its him who carries me. That's what love is all about. That's what Ching is all about.