My Rowan is twelve today. In some ways it is hard to believe he's that old, but then I see him get up slooowly from one of his frequent naps, and I'm reminded that he is no longer a youngster. We spend more time snuggling than playing these days, but every now and then Rowan looks at me with a gleeful glint in his eye and then leaps into the air and darts back and forth in front of me. He did that yesterday when I walked to the car and back; he was overflowing with joy that I hadn't gone away without him. I overflow with joy and gratitude every time he does that.
No matter how deeply Rowan is sleeping, if I say the magic words, "Do you want to go with me?" he leaps to his feet and runs to the front door, where he dances impatiently until we go out together. He flops into his spot in my car (the floor of the passenger side), always facing me, and happily stays in the car until we're back home, sleeping some of the time, but frequently opening his eyes to check on my. If I reach down at a red light, he rests his chin in my palm, and sighs contentedly. So do I; it feels so good to have my boy with me wherever I am. Now that the weather is warming up, he can't go out with me often, since he is retired from formal Service Dog work for the most part, but whenever I can, I schedule errands for cool mornings.
|Rowan in his spot in my car|
|On a recent walk-- my faithful, happy shadow|
Happy twelfth Birthday, Rowan! I am so thankful for you.