My dog is old. I hold my breath for the day she goes downhill. My best friend, Lilly, is comparable to an 80-year-old woman. Her hearing has worsened this past year. She no longer hears when I arrive home, nor when I rattle her leash to signal it's time for a walk. Her mobility is possible because of medications and a special diet. She will notice I have moved to another room and follow me. I thought this meant she didn't feel well. She didn't use to stick close by my side. I took her to the vet. Discovered following mamma is a good sign! Instead, I need to worry when she hides. She now makes weird noises, not only snoring. Vet assured me this was part of the cognitive changes with age. I try not to be a helicopter mom but know my beloved canine rarely complains, even when she is in pain. This knowledge keeps me vigilant to any changes with her. My heart will break when she passes. I've lost other dogs because of aging and sickness, and it hurts. Yet, Lilly is the
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