Photo by Susan Crossett

Any birthday cake large enough to hold all my candles would be far too heavy for me to lift.

One could think that, with such age, might come wisdom. Sadly, it seems I never learn. Some times at least.

I wrote mid-July of the “Y in the Road,” my debate on subjecting Minor, my beloved golden retriever, to major leg surgery. I hadn’t fully made up my mind, knowing the decision would be delayed until I talked in detail to the surgeon, a man I had not yet met.

But black or white? Yes or no? Truly a fork in the road does require one choosing the right or the left. And with such a road it’s certainly better to pick one and move on. But life isn’t generally that neat. Black and white lead to countless shades of gray. And anybody hear of “maybe”? Of, for that matter, “not yet”.

The surgeon examined Minor, found lots of arthritis (something we have in common, i.e., the dog and I) but could see no reason for surgery. What a relief! What a blessed relief indeed!

Laser was recommended instead and the treatments begun the same day. A caring attendant passes out heavy sun goggles for Minor and me, donning his pair too, and then rubs the sore area for a timed five minutes. We started with three sessions weekly, graduated to only one and now go every other Friday. The drive takes far longer than the process but I’m happy to be out in the country — at least till the heavy snows begin to fly.

I’d recommend the treatment of course. I’d jump at anything that might increase the number of good days Minor can enjoy.

Is it working? Minor has good days and some that aren’t. It’s obvious to me when he’s sore or stiff. Moving takes a little longer and his enthusiasm might flag — but only a bit. Our walks are still a mutual morning pleasure, he jumps up on things as peppily as a youngster and I’ve watched him climb the long staircase one perfect step after another. He might now chase the deer not quite as far as he once did but they’ve gotten bigger and the brother has definite antlers. I just consider him wise.

I was asked a challenging but intriguing question not too long ago. Say, it began, you met the perfect partner of your dreams. (You don’t need me to fill in the details. Dream, and complete those blanks for yourself.) This person, moreover, could make you sublimely happy (or is that part of our definition of perfection?). Anyway, Ms/Mr Perfect comes with just one caveat: you are told at the start that this person will die at the end of five years. Would you go ahead? or step away?

I suspect the answer for us old-timers might be far different from what one in his earlier years might choose. Then again, perhaps not.

I’ve thought of this often not because I am dreaming of Mr. Perfect but as to how it pertains to a golden retriever. (Ah, shucks — and you thought I was veering into romance!)

I have encountered people with goldens ten, even twelve years old, and one even more. But the odds of cancer increase as do their remaining years. Knowing that, is the future pain worth today’s joys? I have to say I see few breeds any lovelier and none with the gentle intellect I have grown to love.

Minor has never met any person — any creature for that matter — who isn’t greeted as an immediate friend. Our delivery man will drop dog treats off on the garage steps with the package for me if we’re not at home. And though Minor may whimper at the vet’s or when spotting the cat, the thump of his tail is far louder.

Minor recently celebrated the end of his ninth year in good health. We’ll share our arthritis with our laughs and adventures and look forward to many more golden days.

And then? That isn’t a “then” I need to deal with now.

Susan Crossett has lived outside Cassadaga for more than 20 years. A lifetime of writing led to these columns as well as two novels. “Her Reason for Being” was published in 2008 with “Love in Three Acts” following in 2014. Both novels are now available at Lakewood’s Off the Beaten Path bookstore. Information on all the Musings, her books and the author may be found at Susancrossett.com.