My Labrador, Myself

My canine twin

Much has been written about women who hit perimenopause at the same time their teenagers go into hormonal overdrive.  But what about the weird connection between pet owners and their beloved animals?  In my own case, Dusty and I are hitting certain milestones at the same time, and quite frankly, I'm alarmed.  This dog and I are so in sync, we share the same middle-aged mishegas, the same allergies, the same jumpy personality, the same need to feel loved and appreciated.  We are, as they say, simpatico.  Sometimes I need someone, preferably with a medical degree, to remind me that I didn't actually give birth to Dusty.  Yesterday, our similarities attained a new level of you've-got-to-be-kidding when I took him for his annual checkup at the vet. Turns out, we have yet another thing in common now.  "His eyes look a little cloudy," the doctor said.  "He's probably seeing little black spots, too."  I looked at her in disbelief.  "You're freaking me out here."  "Oh, it's nothing to worry about.  He won't go blind."  "I just went through this myself," I said, and regaled her with my torn retina ordeal, as if it were deeply relevant.  She smiled, patiently, and played along.  I bet she gets this a lot from wacky pet owners who over-identify with their animals.  "Do you think Dusty got tired of hearing me talk about my eyes, and figured, hey, it's my turn?" "It's possible," she said, indulging me, "or it might just be a coincidence."  "A cosmic one," I added.  She escorted Dusty out of the exam room for the full spa treatment.  Teeth cleaning, nail clipping, and various extractions.  While I waited, I found myself wondering what other ailments Dusty and I might share in the future.  Leaky bladder.  Faulty memory.  Uncontrollable napping.  Whatever awaits us, God willing, we'll get through it, hand in paw.