One of Those Days

The old man of the house, dear old Jasper. He has his moments, where he'll run around like a little puppy, puffing and wheezing with a ridiculous grin on his face and then there are other days when he'll take ten minutes to get out of his basket, and by that time he's forgotten (and so have you) what he's actually getting up to do. He has his quirks, some good, like when, as soon as you go to pet him he just flops at your feet (litterally, heavily, with a big whumpf) and then the bad, when, immediately after taking a drink, he'll put his chin on your knee and leave a big wet patch of drool.
He's a big softy but slowly breaking down like all old things: his back legs don't work (all the power's in the front meaning he has monster shoulders), he's deaf - and not just selectively, we've checked - and every time you walk him you panic that he's going to drop down dead on you - so we don't walk him, he just pootles round the garden.
But as long as his old ticker's still going and his tail still wags it doesn't matter, he's our Jasper and we love him.