How terribly strange to be seventy.

Yesterday I was walking Jake along Beach Street, which goes right by the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. We passed a gentleman who remarked "now there's an old friend" as he looked at Jake.

Sure, Jake's getting a lot of grey these days. He's just turned ten, which is purportedly 70 in human years, and he's looking a bit, well, distinguished. And while I don't want to focus on him getting old, I certainly appreciate the idea that he's an old friend. He's been through much with me: a couple of roommates, a couple of cross-country trips, nine band reviews, one bike race, numerous vet visits, and more than a thousand walks.

I'd like to think Jake's anonymous commenter was remarking on the long and rewarding life Jake's had, and not just his grey fur. While he can still be a challenge, there's not a day with Jake I don't treasure.

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"How terribly strange to be seventy."	Lyric from the song Old Friends by Simon and Garfunkel