Focus & Midlife

Is it me or are things just that little bit tougher these days!? As our dog, Kiwi heads towards her sixth birthday it got me thinking about the midlife stage of a dog. As they say (not sure who ‘they’ actually are...), one human year is the equivalent to seven dog years so this places Kiwi in her forties and like me, I’m started to think about life in rather strange and sometimes scary ways.


As a puppy Kiwi would bounce and leap around with seemingly endless energy and vigour and I would like to believe I used to be like that as a youngman,

although some may argue likewise.

I could focus on a task like the best of them to the point I’d give Alan Turing a good run for his money. And when given a bone, I recollect Kiwi attacking the bone with such commitment that her gums often bleed. The slight horror of a bloodied was nothing compared to watching your dog attempting to swallow a soggy half chewed hide bone as if she was a pelican attempting to devour a fish whole!


So how does midlife for a dog compare with that of a forty something human?


I think both Kiwi and I share in the same habits and ultimate outcome here: bags of enthusiasm and always a strong start to any task or activity attempted. But soon enough we both get rather tired and often lose site of the real aim of whatever it is we are attempting to do.



Focus Kiwi, Focus.....

It is often evident now that when we head out in the morning Kiwi forgets the reason for the early morning walk. She seemingly trots along, sniffing far more than before and seemingly oblivious to the explosive mass which is building up like a well shaken bottle of Champagne. During the 25min walk I often remind her of the need to “have a wee”, at which point she stares at me as if to say “If it’s that important, you have one!”. And that’s certainly not an issue I struggle with now. I need to go to the loo within 2 minutes of heading outside into the cold which causes all sorts of issues depending on where we are walking and how busy the area is. Anyway, back to her Royal Highness Kiwi. So, with all poo bags still nicely folded in my pocket and once again drawn into the thought that maybe Kiwi doesn’t need the loo this morning we head back towards the house. No large open grass areas in sight, no quiet, secluded, peaceful coves for Kiwi to carry out her ablutions in.


Sweaty Anticipation

And yes of course this is the point Kiwi remembers what she should be doing and why we headed out into the driving rain. And here it comes, on the pavement, infront of all of the Nursery Moms and Dads and much to amusement and disgust of the children. And as I begin to sweat in anticipation of the poo bag breaking and of me raising my hand as a small child does when holding onto a chocolate bar in the sun for too long I stare at Kiwi and amongst other things mutter........ Focus Kiwi, Focus!!!



It comes to us all...doesn't it?

So as I sit in front of my laptop with more than ten internet tabs open, jumping from work project to YouTube to news update, I’m struggling to complete this little blog. Is that just me or can I blame it on the midlife crisis. Anyway, I’m off to the loo!

69 views0 comments