My Retirement Home

I live with a senior citizen. He eats breakfast at 11 a.m., sleeps all day and goes to the bathroom hourly. How did I get myself into this situation you might ask? Well...basically, I can't say no. My mom warned me about this problem since I was young, as she saw that I could never say no to my sister.

So here I am with my senior citizen. At first I gave him free reign of my home, but as with most senior citizens, it was too much space for him to mosey through. Too long of a distance between the bathroom and the bed. I found this out the hard way when I stumbled to the bathroom at 3 in the morning and found hundreds of poop pawprints leading me to the grand prize - diarrhea. So what did I win???? Two hours of cleaning on my hands on knees scrubbing away all of my hard worked anally clean floors. After burning out my nose hairs and drying out my hands (I inherited my Polish mother's love for bleach), I asked myself how I got into this situation.

On December 15, a lovely young lady came to me asking for her to care for her aging dog who would have otherwise been banished to a crate for 8 hours a day at a nameless boarding facility. Of course, I was unable to turn her down and so began my new role as caretaker for the elderly.

After numerous, audible cries of desperation exited my body, a brilliant thought came to my mind. Why aren't there retirement homes for dogs? You know, round them all up and put them together in a big room with no stairs (bad for the arthritis), heated at a balmy 80 degrees with endless amounts of designated naptimes. This alleviates the guilt you have for not being there for your aging friend and allows them to not feel so depressed that their life may be coming to an inevitable end. Surrounded by others in this same situation will make old age seem tolerable.

As my senior citizen unknowingly carried his poop paws all over my new home, I couldn't help but feeling a slight tinge of disdain. Disdain for him to ruin my palace of perfection. That disdain quickly changed, though. I shot him a knowing look...I knew what this was. He was livid with me. Livid that I took him away from the only thing that seemed familiar to him - his mom. He was grasping for the familiar and when he didn't find it, he was pissed. I understood this need for something comfortable. It was evident to me that old age is obviously not any easier if you're a dog or human. You need someone to come home to that allows you to take that much needed sigh of relief....that smell of your beloved one that allows you to breathe again. Anyone that says dogs are not like people, has not experienced the various ways they speak the same language as us. They love. They long for companionship. And they never forget the one that they come home to.

So, for now, I will attempt to be this person and will care for my senior citizen like I hope my future kids will take care of me. And just maybe, I'll start a retirement home for dogs.