Been There, Done That: Enjoying the golden doggy years

At 13 1/2, our Beagle Boy Cletus is starting to show some signs of slowing down. He's still got a voracious appetite and a high demand for a constant supply of chewsticks and fancy treats. But we're better off to just hand the treats to him. Tossing mini biscuits to him now offers too good of a chance to just hit him in the head. If he's getting a treat, it's because he was a good boy, I don't want to pelt his nugget with food.

His eyesight may not quite be what it used to. Dave thinks I'm wrong on this one. Cletus spends a lot of time looking out the windows waiting for something to go by to bark at. Then just lets fly with a flurry of barks and howls. I look to see what he's carrying on about and see nary a thing— not a squirrel or a chippie or a ferry-diddle in sight. Dave says he's got eyes like a hawk. He can see things we can't. I think they're both making things up. Cletus is fibbing and Dave is swearing to it.