She flies through the air with the greatest of ease

until she crashes on the floor. And then she runs and hides under the desk.

I have to face the facts -- my heart, my muse, my furry soulmate, the love of my life is getting old. Chelsea turned 13 last September, and while little dogs live long lives, she's still considered geriatric and she can't do the things she thinks she should be able to do.

Chelsea is as close to a cat as a dog can get, without all the aloofness that a dog could never pull off. She stalks prey, she isn't afraid of heights, she sleeps on the windowsill in the dining room, she's nimble-footed. I love watching her jump from the sofa to the chair to the ottoman to the other chair. She can just about make a circuit of my living room without setting foot on the floor. She jumps from my bed to the side chair and back again, and hardly shakes the bed. Until last night.

When we go to bed, Doodlebug hops up his little doggy steps and settles right in beside me. Chelsea comes to bed until she thinks I'm asleep, and then she hops into the chair to sleep alone until about a half hour until the alarm goes off, then she comes back to bed and stays there until I get up.

Last night, she missed the chair and landed in a heap on the floor. She sat there a bit dazed for a minute, then literally shook herself off, jumped into the chair and settled down for the night. She moved a little slowly this morning, but she does that from time to time -- we're all getting older. When I got home from work tonight and let them out of the bedroom, she made a mad dash for the chair in the living room -- she likes to be as close to my level as she can get, probably in a ploy for the alpha position. She tried to jump to the ottoman, but misjudged the distance and fell again. She sat hunched over for a few minutes, and I felt everything to make sure she hadn't broken or dislocated anything. She seems ok now, but she's still moving slowly. A visit to the vet may be in order ...

I'm not worried about losing her -- she promised me the day I picked her up from the shelter that she's immortal. But, damn, it sure is hard watching her get old.

And on the garden front, the beans are growing, the lettuce is starting to look like lettuce, the zinnias are working on their second set of leaves, it looks like the blueberries will survive (even though I haven't put peat in the container yet to acidify the soil), the daisies are getting taller and the lavender is still a no-show.

Watching the beans grow ...

Today has been kind of a quiet day, and long, which is the BEST on weekends. It feels like it should be after 6:00, but it's just 3:15. Ahhh, extra hours today ...

I sat outside for quite some time earlier, just reading and watching the beans come up. I swear, they're growing so fast I could almost see them break ground, unfurl their leaves and reach up to the sun. But not quite -- I think they knew I was watching and would only grow when I looked away. Anyway, this is how they looked this morning. In no time at all, they'll be shading the lettuce, which is exactly what I wanted them to do. I was finally chased in by two wasps who insisted on buzzing around the glider. It looked like they were trying to eat it -- even though I washed it off, perhaps there's still pollen left in the pores of the wood. I've been stung too many times by wasps and wasn't in the mood to be stung today, so I surrendered and left them to it. I needed to clean the aquarium anyway, and now the fish are happy and I can see them again. I know I skipped cleaning for two weeks, but that tank was just way too murky for normal fish muck. They may be getting too large for the tank -- I probably should start thinking about moving them to my friend's pond.

The pups are enjoying the day, too. Chelsea has been sleeping on the chair by the window with her head propped on the windowsill, letting the breeze blow over her and waking up to bark at passing people, cars, bees and whatever else goes by the window. Doodlebug has been right by my side, as always. He had quite the accident early this morning, so I've been trying to take him out every hour today, and I'll pick up his water around 8:00 tonight so that he doesn't drink so much before we go to bed. Not a pleasant experience for any of us, but I can't yell at him for it because he can't help it. He's just getting old. I guess I could put him in his crate at night, but that would be punishment for both of us. I'd miss his furry little body curled up behind my knees.

Since I still have a good part of the afternoon stretching out ahead of me, I think I'll go rubber stamp some cards. Or read a bit more before starting dinner. Or take a nap with the pups ...