Good Ole Dog Mia

There is no denying that my baby dog Mia is old. She's almost twelve, which is not young for any dog, but is particularly advanced in age for a large dog.

She's stiff and gimpy, thanks no doubt to some arthritis in her shoulder. I suppose this is a natural result of being the World's Biggest Collie (seriously, she's 80 pounds and looks like a mastiff up close) and having a very active life. She takes a pill for pain every day, as well as a pee-pee pill for incontinence.

She's pretty shaky in the legs, and is particularly unstable on the slick wood floors in the kitchen. Too bad, since that's her favorite place to be. She still patrols the kitchen for dropped food, but then retreats immediately to the stability of the rug in the living room.

She has a benign tumor on her eyelid. Fortunately, it's so cold here that when she stays outside during very cold weather--which she will do, even if it's below zero--the tumor will actually freeze off. I find this natural cryosurgery hilarious and joke that we should open a cryosurgery clinic. It would be so easy: Just go outside and expose your mole to the weather! Done!

She can't take any kind of heat anymore and starts panting when the house gets to 70 degrees.

But despite all these things, she's still happy and amazingly active. She's been trudging through the snow in the back field lately to get to the beaver carcass A. put out there to draw wild animals and study their tracks. He thought it was too far for Good Ole Dog Mia to bother with, but she was determined.

She still goes on walks, though we have to shut her in the house for her own good if it's going to be a particularly long one or if it's too warm outside for her.

And she still watches over the hairless puppies:

Or maybe she just wants to steal the blanket. Either way, she's still a good dog.