Dementia dog

Every night around 7pm a sort of witching hour begins for my 17 year old Shetland Sheepdog, Walter.

I suspect triggered by the smell of dinner cooking (usually salmon, chicken or steak), Walter’s aged mind flicks a switch and turns its state to 'dementia dog'.

For the next hour at minimum Walt will pant and pace about the house seeking out obstacles. He’ll walk behind the TV among all the cables (where I fear he'll electrocute himself), squeeze his body between the wall and my office desk, crouch under the coffee table, hover in a corner, or squish himself behind a chair. Of course he often gets stuck and loyal me comes to his rescue.

During these times Walt is overcome with busyness. Dementia dog's nightly charade can carry on for several hours and very often I’ll have to cart him outside for my own mind's escape. After a short interval (because it's cold outside), we're back...and dementia dog can resume his second act.

I read him well and while this behaviour would no doubt cause distress to an untrained eye; I know it’s just the folly of a very old, old dog. Besides, when dementia dog sets in, it can signal he needs to pee or is thirsty for a drink.

But unfortunate to say, dementia dog brings with it broken sleep. We'll settle for bed around 11pm, but I will be up at least once a night tending to some four legged whim.

People have remarked the interrupted sleep is good training for potential motherhood but if dementia dog were indeed a newborn; he'd be a toddler by now - such episodes have run their nightly ritual for at least three years.

I know there are plenty dear to me who think it’s time Walt gave up the ghost but I love him and am scared to let my faithful friend go.

So this reasons why night after night, year after year, I’ve allowed it to carry on – Walt’s twilight dance in the twilight of his life.