All The Time in the World
All the Time in the World
Finnegan was sleeping in his little bed in my office midday, snoring like I’d imagine a tired long-haul truck driver would after drinking a case of beer. I couldn’t focus! I called Dane into my office to see.
When Finn heard us talking about him, one eye opened, and we laughed. “Finny, are you having a good sleep?” I asked. His tiny tail thumped three times, and he grinned, exposing his bottom row of tiny teeth.
It turns out Finnegan and I are the same age. The first year of a dog’s life is equivalent to 15 years in a human’s life, and for small dogs (under 20 pounds), who tend to live longer than large dogs, each succeeding year adds the equivalent of 4 more human years. Recently, I used the Daily Paws conversion chart, found Finny’s weight, ran my finger down the ages to his current age of 13, moved it to the right, and landed on my age: 68!
In 2026, human life expectancy at birth hit a new all-time high of 79 years in the United States. Looks like both Finnegan and I have many years left to enjoy life.
But sadly, when Finn tries to get out of his bed, one of his back legs shakes, then his whole back end, as he slowly pulls himself up. His front legs are badly bowed, and he hobbles over to Dane to get a few pets. It breaks our hearts to see him so stiff and obviously in pain. He’s been to the doctor and had X-rays, and the diagnosis is arthritis.
I can empathize! Just yesterday, I was also hobbling around, thanks to a spine riddled with arthritic changes. Both Finn and I have led active lives, full of long hikes followed by cat/cow and downward-dog stretches. I’ve come to the conclusion that most people and dogs will eventually feel the aches of deteriorating joints. Way back when, people died before their joints gave out. Nowadays we live longer.
Since Finnegan’s favorite thing in the whole world is going on daily hikes with us and his siblings, Téte and Ruben, we can’t bear to leave him at home just because he can’t keep up. So Dane and I spent hours researching doggie carriers, then more time measuring Finn and stressing over the pack’s size. We ended up choosing a K-9 Sport Sack Air 2.
Today it came in the mail, and after reading the instructions and grabbing a few doggie bones, we helped Finn into the pack and onto Dane’s back. It was easier than we thought, and a perfect fit. We decided to walk up the road and let Finn get used to the ride.
Dane and I were excited, Finn not so much. He seemed confused about riding and not walking. We imagined him saying, Hey, where’s Téte and Ruben? But for his first outing, we didn’t want too much action; we just wanted Finnegan to relax and get used to the pack.
Once we got back home and carefully helped him out of the pack, he held up his back leg and hobbled. We worried: Did sitting in the pack make his hind end even more painful? We don’t know, because shortly after that, it was time to eat. Finn rallied and ran down to the basement, where he had his dinner with Téte and Ruben.
Aging is not for sissies; we’ve all heard that, and most of us have experienced an aching joint or two. But seeing your little buddy in what looks like pain is heartbreaking. It’s not like we can tell him, “It’s okay, Finn, get comfortable and enjoy the ride,” and have him understand. So we’ve decided we’ll keep taking him for walks with Té and Rubes and, when he tires, put him in the pack for a free ride back home.
I’m trying to stay focused on the fact that small dogs usually live longer. But it’s the quality of life that matters, and for both Finn and me, that means getting outside and taking long hikes without joint pain.
Finn finished his dinner and is back in his spot next to my desk. As he settles down, with his head hanging over the side of his bed, he starts to snore. I smile, knowing that we have a plan.
Looks like this will be a slow, one-day-at-a-time process. But for Finny, we’ll take all the time in the world.