My dog Ed's senile years involve infractions I'd have deemed unthinkable just a year ago. Taking food off the coffee table. Eating toilet paper off the roll. Isolated turd mines eviscerating bare feet in the dark.
It wasn't until this morning, though, that I noticed the human parallel. When Ed saw me heading around the narrow part of the deck, she ducked in front of me, then sauntered aimlessly and slowly. She stopped occasionally. She ignored all attempts to get her to go faster or to get her out of the way. She was oblivious to me, oblivious to being an enraging obstruction.
I fumed. "This is just like being on Metamuville Road and having some old fart cut me off, then go 32 in a 50 and weave all over the pl—"
Oh.