Old Dogs

They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but I'm working hard to prove them wrong.  A good portion of yesterday was again spent with the new remote control in hand.  I'm pretty comfortable now with the basics, but on this device each button can do a dozen things and without a manual, there is no way to know what they are.  The dadratted thing should come with a sign:  "Warning!  Slow learning curve ahead."  I got myself in trouble only once and had to call for help so I'm making progress.  It's not that I'm stubborn or anything, but I refuse to be beaten by a machine.  I shall overcome!

There was a soft rain off and on all day.  I considered lighting a fire, but it wasn't really cold enough.  It's a sign of my desperation with the remote that I'd take a break and do housework, so the day wasn't a total loss.  Beau and one of his kids stopped by in the afternoon just to visit.  That was better than dusting.

Bessie Anne rarely leaves my side.  She can be sound asleep and if I leave the room, it will only be a minute or two before she follows.  She's almost completely deaf now, so how does she know?  She goes outside alone on a potty run, or into the kitchen for a drink of water, but otherwise we're always together.  All this by way of saying it scared me last night when I heard what I thought was Bess going down the stairs alone.  Neither of us goes downstairs anymore because we both have trouble getting back up.  When I checked, sure enough there she was, and she couldn't climb the stairs without help.  Whatever possessed her to go down there alone in the dark?  With a boost now and then and a lot of pauses, we came back up together.  I suppose old dogs can go senile, too.