You'd never know it.

This afternoon while scanning through some old blog posts by way of gathering stuff for a blog-based bookoid, I came across a post dated June 14, 2008, announcing the arrival of Cassie the Corgi at the Funny Farm. In it, I remarked that the Humane Society said her former humans told them she was two years old.

That would make her ten years old now!

Who would think it? She races around the backyard with Ruby like a rocket. She walks upwards of a mile without much trouble, though sometimes she needs to stop and rest. (Or maybe the operative term is "wants" to stop and rest: it's part of the routine.) She eats like a football player. Her fur is thick and gorgeous. Her teeth and gums look good. She has no problem getting up after loafing on the floor for awhile.

By this age, my poor old German shepherd Anna was on her last paws. She was so crippled up at 10 she could barely drag herself to her feet, and she could no longer chase the beloved Ball. Whatever could go wrong with a GerShep went wrong with Anna: arthritis, pannus, thyroid deficiency, yeast infection, hip dysplasia, on and expensively on. Toward the end she seemed to suffer something like doggy Alzheimer's: she decided the shower was the dog door and would try to get out of the house through it.

I hope Ruby the Corgi Pup will stay healthy this long. And that Cassie will continue to live in good health for more years. Preferably many more years.

2008. Gee. Where did eight years go, anyway?