Young at heart

So here we are...you, you're full of surprises. Just when I thought the old man had overtaken the body of my crazy little ball of mischief, you make me play your favourite game. The last of summer has gone, but it is still light outside and there you are in the fading shadows. With me, the one constant in your life (and you in mine). You drop the ball on the ground and without asking, you bring it closer and it thuds on the concrete stairs. And you are off. Not as fast as before, but your tail - your tail is making up for it going a hundred miles an hour in semi circles. 

I know I should stop, but I don't see this in you very often these days. Mostly now you like to follow me from room to room in silence - finding a warm and sunny corner to nap in the day. At night there is a half hour of the old cheeky dog where you bark and play fight. But mostly those days are gone. So while I know this isn't good for your aching bones, I know it is good for my aching heart. Because I guess that was the last summer and time is too short (and just between you and me the thought of that takes my breath away). 

But this time makes me remember that it's okay to sleep in on the holiday and get crumbs on the sheets while I listen to you snore. The sky is turning pink and my feet are cold and we should go inside, but I don't want this moment to end. You see, this game makes me happy and sad all at once. But mostly happy.