One supposes it is in the nature of a self-fulfilling prophecy to worry constantly about her elder-status and the newly-imposed restrictions of an aged body on her independence and self confidence.

But all of the aging body's gradual and all-too-soon functioning slips begin to come together and it's worrying. In fact, I believe we are more concerned about her decline in physical functioning than ours. We're almost age-analogous but it almost seems we're in more robust health than she is.

She is, after all, a small black dog who has reached her nineteenth year. Her eyesight and hearing are impaired, and although her internal organs are in fine shape for her age, there are new physical constraints commensurate with her age. Obviously complicated by her lack of full sight, and the lack of confidence that brings to the issue of simply forging ahead. She can no longer accurately gauge physical challenges.

Sometimes, like this morning when she feels suddenly rambunctious and literally bounced back into the house after being outside to relieve herself, she forgets her new limitations. And her co-ordination goes off, causing her critical cadence to falter. Evidenced when soon afterward, she followed me up the stairs to the second floor. The stairs are carpeted, so it wasn't a matter of slipping on hardwood. She just went off kilter, and awkwardly slipped.

I heard her, behind me, and turned in time to see her collapse down several steps, attempt to right herself, but unsuccessfully, and the slide back down the stairs continued, from half-way up, to the bottom step. I followed and scooped her up, her heart beating wildly as she squirmed to escape my arms.

Wrong thing to do, I'm sure, evince that concern for her, trying to comfort her. Her preference was clearly to forget the incident, and escape direct contact with the steps, at that moment.