The Aging Game....

Growing.  

Growing up.  

Grown up.  

Growing old.  

Old. 

Why does it seem that everyone is getting younger and younger?  Or is it just that as I go through my own life journey, I realize how very young I was when I was "that" age??

The area I live in tends to attract lots of young people from all over the world.  Late teens, early to mid 20 somethings.  Free. Traveling.  Having fun.  No worries (or from my perspective 20 years later, knowing that there were rarely any real worries in the long run!)  Not stressing about tomorrow, living for today.  Not having a care.  And now that you mention it, not really being clear about what it is that they should be caring about in the first place. 

Ahhhh, the bliss of youth.  

A girlfriend and I recently had a chuckle.  I'm 41 and she's turning 42 soon.  Living in this youth attracting area, we realized that it is probably just about the only place on earth that we've been referred to as an "older woman" in a sense that actually makes us feel ((gulp)) old.   Not middle age...older.  What a hoot! 

Recently, I caught myself watching a table of three traveling young ladies at a bar.  I'd guestimate they were between the ages of 18-20, from somewhere in South America.  Young.  Flawless.  Beautiful.  Free.  Laughing.  And (hopefully) with their whole lives ahead of them. They can choose anything at this point.  I started to flashback and daydream about myself at the age.  The choices I made.  The roads those decisions led me down.  And it's funny because at that age, you have no idea what the outcome will be, or how much true potential you have.  Everything and anything is at your grasp if you only choose it.  But life is ironic that way because you only come to those realizations by making the choices, good or bad, and traveling the roads they take you down.  Only through hindsight can you see things crystal clear.  (Guess that's where the saying "Hindsight is 20/20" must've home from, huh?)

But you know, "youth" is a funny thing.  It's determined from what point in time you take a look.   I may look at these travelers I encounter and think they are soooo young and with the vast world in front of them.  But 20 years ago, I was that young woman, yet to someone 20 years older than me, I still am.

This occurred to me when two women I'd estimate to be in their early 70's strolled through the shop and we starting chatting about how I came to be living in this tropical paradise.  They asked all the standard questions "do you like it here?", "did you come alone?" "will you ever go back to the U.S.?"  The one woman looks at the other and says "Ahhhh, can you imagine having so much time and opportunity left?" 

And she's right.

What a strange world it is that puts so many head-trips on the impossible task of remaining young forever and then discourages you as you get older, as if your time has already run out while you're still in the processes of living your life.  

I think it too easy to lose sight of the fact that no matter where you are in this youth-game, you still have what's ahead of you - ahead. 

 

The Dog Lady

So, a little something about me (if you don't know this already) is that I am craaaaazy about dogs.  Seriously, you know those weird "cat ladies" - I could all too easily become the canine equivalent....almost.  I love 'em, love 'em, love 'em!!

My nickname among some has become "The Dog Lady" and perhaps with good reason.  I have so many dog "friends".  Some are homeless, some have owners, some are now mine!  Neighborhood dogs come by to visit me and sit on the porch with me while I drink my morning coffee.

Not only do I love dogs, THEY LOVE ME TOO!!  Dogs follow me, find me, sniiiiiifffff me out!! Lost dogs seem to show up in my presence, as if they've heard through some grapevine that I am the Doggie Messiah -- a savior for the weary and hungry.  They show up at my door.  They find their way to my shop.  Recently, one even turned up INSIDE my house!  Stories to be told.

So, my husband and I have 5 dogs.  Yup.  You read it right, 5, f-i-v-e.  Well, 4 and 1/4 if you want to be fair (4 big dogs and one that's a 1/4 of their size).  Having this many dogs on the beach in the country is a completely different experience than having that many pets in a city.  The dogs have space, the beach, freedom and lots of time with their human counterparts.

When my husband and I met, he had 2 dogs:

Onyx -- a bundle of love and tail wagging.  If I was able to rename her, her name would be "Pig Pen" after the Charlie Brown character.  She's a Black Lab and absolutely cannot stay clean for a second.   She's constantly dusty and dirty and always has some sort of gnats, flies or mosquitos caravanning behind her.  In her defense, what she lacks in cleanliness, she makes up for in unconditional love and faithfulness.  Age 10 and counting!!

Merlin, the big, the brave and the bad.  Can jump and almost do a full 180.  Loves to swim and play fetch in the ocean waves.  A sucker for any kind of petting, but a fighter.  You know those signs people put on their gates that say "Perro Bravo" or "Guard Dog" - those signs were made for him.  A mix of Lab, Dalmation and who knows what else.  Aged 5 +/-




To those two, I added my one dog, Johnny (aka the worlds bestest dog ever), who passed away two years later in December 2009.    After Johnny died, together we adopted....

Maya, the delicate, timid little princess (but growing braver every day!).   A lover of chasing the ball and sitting on the porch watching the world go by.  A 12 lb. little mixture of Mini Pincher, Wiener dog and for sure some kind of Jack Russell.  Approximately 2 years old.

Then a few months later....

Carmen, my first accidentally adopted dog.  I first met her in the summer of 2008 and thought she was a street dog.  She did have an owner though and about a year after I met her, they gave her away to another family about 15 miles away.  She was gone a few months, then ran away from them and showed up at my door.  The prior owner could not figure out how she had found her way back to town.  I'd say she chose me.  A gorgeous mix of  Ridgeback, Pitbull and who knows what else.  Approximately 3 years old.

And finally, my last dog.  (Really!  I don't want any more!)

Lola, my second accidentally adopted street dog.  The most beautiful dog ever.  A complete street mixture of a little of this and a little of that dog (locally called "saguate").  These street dogs are incredibly smart and resilient.  This lil' girl showed up about 1/2 a day from starving to death.  We tried and tried to find her a home, but it just didn't happen.  She ended up staying and a few months later was run over by an SUV.  She walked away without so much as a scar.  She's like Wonder Dog.  Approximately 1 1/2 years old.

 These are the dogs I call "mine", however I have tons of pooches in my life.  I have a whole other life that goes on between me and these dogs and me and the outside world.

Stay tuned.