Steps on Merlin's Walk.

Merlin is getting to be rather an elderly fellow now; as far as we can tell, he’s 15½ years old while his life expectancy as a corgi is a mere 12 years. When we first took him in for a few weeks while Mrs Merlin was in hospital, he weighed in at 30 kilos; so fat that his feet barely reached the ground but, by the simple expediency of taking him for walks and feeding him on dog food, we had reduced him down to half the dog he used to be in about six months. Being something of a nerd, I have all this recorded. Over the next year, his weight slowly fell to a svelte 11 kilos, but the inactivity that goes with age: a propensity to sleep most of the day and only going on short walks, he is now up to nearly 14. When Mrs Merlin came out of hospital all those years ago, like the lad himself, her weight was more than twice that quoted in her breed specification, having spent a life time abusing her body with alcohol and nicotine as well as food and lack of exercise.
 
Mrs M. died two weeks ago having, all the time that we knew her, blamed the cruel world for her problems, and rejected both her family and all the friends who tried to help her – even electing not to have a funeral so that no one had the opportunity to pay their last respects. She must have died a very lonely and sad lady
 
Merlin, on the other hand, is content with his lot as long as he has food, a comfortable bed, the occasional walk and companionship; though, sadly, the steps in the Blip, just a few yards from home, proved a little scary for him today and he needed some help to get down. 
Age doesn’t travel alone.