Getting Quirky

George pooped on our bedroom rug this week. Actually he might have done it before that - it was quite hard. I imagine I probably stepped on it at one point and thought it was his bone. He often leaves his bone hidden in the dark shaggy rug.

He is pissed at us because of the new addition to our family, and the baby isn’t even home yet! But we haven’t been at home as much; he hasn’t had as many walks; he can sense our new excitement and anxiety. Poor guy. I don’t fault him for acting out.

In a way, I think George is gaining a few eccentricities in his old age. He just turned eight years old, and he definitely has new personality traits. Mainly, he is more finicky than ever about going outside when it rains. In the past when it rained, he used to run out it in to pee, do his business, and then opt for peeing inside on his pee pad afterward. He would at least try going outside.

Now, he refuses to go out at all if it’s raining. And if the ground is still wet, he will not walk beyond the patio. In fact, I have trouble getting him to go outside at all if it has rained lately. He’s very persnickety.

He also pretends to want to go outside, and he pretends to want an ice cube from the refrigerator, when all he really wants is me to get up and give him attention. He will stand by the back door or the fridge until I get up, then when I do, he walks away nonchalantly and stares at me as if I am stupid. He has attitude.

But isn’t quirkiness a trait of old age in humans, too? I am about halfway through my life (hopefully), the same as George (hopefully), and I know I have changed with age. I am less worried about what other people think, less worried about being polite. I may not poop on people’s rugs, but it might cross my mind.