When I Am Old
When I am old,
I will wear soft gray sweatshirts
and tie a bandana over my silver hair.
I’ll spend my social security checks on my dogs.
I will sit in my favorite chair
and listen to the sound of their breathing.
On warm summer nights,
I’ll slip outside with them for a run—
if my old bones will let me.
When people visit, I’ll smile and nod,
showing them my dogs.
I’ll talk about the ones I love today,
and the ones I’ve loved and lost.
I’ll still work hard—
mopping floors, filling bowls,
whispering their names softly, lovingly.
And I will wear the sweat on my neck like a jewel.
I may embarrass my family—
those who haven’t yet found
the peace that comes from letting dogs
be your truest friends.
Friends who wait at any hour
for the sound of your footstep,
who leap from deep sleep
just to greet you like you are everything.
I’ll hug their strong necks,
kiss their sweet heads,
and whisper how grateful I am
for their company.
I look in the mirror now
and see the years upon me.
This is who I am,
and who I’ve always been.
Loving dogs is simple—
they are part of me.
Please accept me as I am.
My dogs love me for being here,
for being theirs.
And when I am old,
that love will matter most.
You’ll understand someday,
if you too are lucky enough
to grow old with dogs by your side.
— Author Unknown
