Mountain Girl is old. She is arthritic, almost toothless, and when I came home last night she greeted me and never noticed this rather enormous deer in the backyard. I suspect her vision and hearing are not what they once were.
She prefers the warmth of my study now, when she once lived to lecture the squirrels and patrol the yard against fox, raccoon and birds.
Old age -- it is the wolf that hunts us all.
Mountain has at least a year left, but her hunting days are behind her I think. But we shall see. There is still a twinkle in her eye, even if it's a little bluer than it once was. We shall see. As always, I listen to the dogs. They are always the experts.