Toady, My Bulldog, Understands Happiness

My English Bulldog, Toady, seems to be living life in reverse. She’s eight, which is getting up there for her breed. She has the typical age-related issues and gets a little pill for pain in the hips and a little pill to help her airways open up. She no longer jumps in the Jeep, preferring to climb up part way and then get a little boost from me to get the rest of the way. She’ll pass me in people-years this month.

But she’s as playful and energetic as she has ever been. She was timid as a pup, not too adventuresome. Took her two years before I heard her bark. Actually, it’s more a deep woof. She didn’t even eat that much as a pup, sometimes going once a day.

The secret to her acting like a pup when she’s an old lady is that, in her mind, she thinks she’s a little dog, maybe schnoodle size, maybe 15-20 pounds vs. a stocky, muscular (still svelte and beautiful) 50 pounds. She loves where we live now because there are dogs of all sizes out in the courtyard at any given time. That’s how I can tell she thinks she’s a small dog. She even prefers small places, so when I move next month, it will be to a house that will still be the size she prefers.

So I guess it’s how you view yourself that determines happiness… not how others view you. Well that and “greenies.” Smart pup.