Best Friends

Several years ago my mother in law expressed an interest in getting a dog. She lived alone and we thought it was a great idea for her to have a canine companion. We didn't want her to have a small, yappy dog, because it was a trip hazard and the frequent barking would get on her nerves. She also didn't need a large dog, because, well, someone in her 80s doesn't need a dog that is stronger than she is. A nice, mid size, laid back dog is what she needed.

Sometimes fate steps in and there's just nothing you can do about it. One weekend several years ago we were visiting Dair and we took her out to eat at a rib/bbq restaurant within walking distance of her house. Out on the front porch of the restaurant was a young adult, male, yellow lab mix. He was friendly and it turned out that he was a stray who had been hanging out at the restaurant for some time. (Smart guy - those rib bones are good!)

Dair decided he was the one. She took him home, named him Sandy, and they've been inseparable ever since. She adores that dog. He had free run of her house and all her furniture. She would slyly feed him table scraps during dinner and then fuss at him to get away from the table.

Since moving in with us, Dair and Sandy have settled in. He gets along with our dog, Oreo, and mostly just stays glued to Dair. Recently we noticed that his skin was red and he was scratching a lot, so we figured he had some allergies. Oreo has food allergies, so we hoped that was Sandy's problem. We switched him to the duck & potato dog food that Oreo eats and tried to convince Dair to stop feeding Sandy Milk Bones and table food.

I know Dair really misses giving Sandy a treat now and then, so I bought some rawhide chews for him and handed one to Dair to give the dog. She said, "what's this," and I told her. Then she proceeded to stick it in her mouth and suck on it. I reminded her it was for the dog and she said, "I know," then licked it again and said, "it's good."

Driving Lessons

At the age of 88, my mother in law, Dair, was still driving. My husband had asked her several years earlier, when she was much more lucid, when would she know it was time to stop driving, and her answer was, "when I have a wreck." That was our worst nightmare.

Thankfully she didn't drive too far most of the time. Her usual trips were to the store, church or the nursing home, all of which were within a five mile radius of her home. However, once a week during bowling season she would drive 15 or so miles to the bowling alley. This was a great concern to us because her top speed was 35 mph and she was driving on a two-lane, curvy mountain road. I'm sure the long line of cars that were stuck behind her featured drivers cursing under their breath the entire time. We were afraid she would pull out in traffic in front of someone and cause a serious wreck. Finally my husband resigned himself to the fact that we couldn't stop her from driving and it might just happen, so he made a big sign with her name and emergency contact info on it that he placed in the car. At least that way the EMTs would know who to call.

As her 89th birthday approached last August, Dair noticed that her NC drivers license was due to expire. There's no license testing facility in her county, but a mobile unit comes to town once a week, so in July she went to renew her license. Thankfully NC does not automatically renew a drivers license for elderly folks and requires that they take a test. Dair failed the test. Undaunted, she had her grandson drive her to the neighboring county, where she took the test again. Failed again. As they were leaving the testing office, she announced very loudly to her grandson, "well, just see if they can catch me."