The 28th, the day after tomorrow, signifies a number of things: the first Sunday after Christmas, the fourth day of Christmas, and the feast of the Holy Innocents (see Matthew 2:13-23). But there’s something else, as well. It’s our Shetland Sheepdog Duncan’s 12th birthday!
It’s only recently that I decided to challenge the conventional wisdom that one year equals seven “dog years.” That’s because, even though Duncan may have lost a step or two, he doesn’t resemble any 84 year-old I’ve ever met. And sure enough, veterinarians say that the “1=7” formula is quite inaccurate. After all, dogs reach adulthood at about one year from birth. A seven year-old able to conceive would be an interesting scientific case. (And interesting in other ways, as well…)
One website that puts Duncan’s age in dog years at 61 sounds about right. I can see him as a 61 year-old. Still, it is a rather inexact science, as another website places him at 64. (I guess that’s not much of a difference in “dog years.”)
Truth be told—and I know none of us are guaranteed tomorrow—I suppose I wanted to reassure myself. I’m not ready to lose him yet!