Every summer, David and I look at each other and say "I'm worried about Dahlia." Why? Because she's listless. She lays around the apartment, looking sad and miserable. She walks slowly, ploddingly. We worry that she's getting older (we don't know her real age, though we're guessing she's somewhere between 4 and 5). We worry that something is wrong with her. She has little interest in exercise and would much rather just lay in the grass for a belly rub. In fact, she usually looks a little like this.
But then there comes a time when I leave the apartment on a walk with Dahlia and she simply races down off the porch. She'll stop and sniff and when I say "Are you coming?", she'll jump up from her sniffing and race on ahead of me. Everything she does is with a bounce in her step and she's moving fast, excitedly. She wants to run and chase and jump. She looks joyous, thrilled with life. Her face is set in a huge grin.
What has resulted in such an amazing revival?
It's suddenly dropped to around 60 degrees for a high and Dahlia, ever the cold weather dog, loves it. She'll be even more thrilled come winter, when she tends to get even more excited and get the zoomies.
Here's a little secret, though. Her mother feels the same way.