solace in aging

I've come to grips with having a senior dog. We lovingly call Dave our old man, sometimes call him puppy and find some happiness and humor in the sad, yet funny things that Dave now does. What I haven't been able to figure out (and wouldn't this be lovely) is where my comfort level is and my acceptance of what's happening.

Is Dave extra-tired after a full week off with Mike and I, doing lots of abnormal activities? Or is he slowing down, the effects of cancer and being close to ten catching up with him? Is he not eating his kibble because it's too hard for his senior teeth, or because he's losing his appetite as a symptom of losing the larger battle?

I'm taking solace now in his greeting me at the door and popping his head up to look out at me when I drive away or arrive at home. In the way he scrunches down when he's picking out which toy to bring to me. In the way he devours the soft, wet food that we're giving him to ensure he's eating something. When he jumps up (usually by the second try) in bed and curls up in my legs.

I have a different feeling now than I've had in the past - acceptance? Gratitude? I want him to be here, and be well while he's here. For tonight, he is.