Relevance, Retirement, and Hazel the Dog Whisperer
Now, "Hazel" isn’t a neighbor or some long-lost aunt. "Hazel" is my wife’s alter ego, the one that came out this morning as she threw her hands in the air and declared:
“I’m Hazel, the maid from the old TV show—doomed to clean up after everyone and everything!”
And honestly? She’s not wrong.
Because our household is currently run by two furry tyrants: a new puppy with zero manners and a Boxer whose appetite rivals a linebacker at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Between chewed shoes, nose prints on everything, and the never-ending hunt for “just one more snack,” "Hazel" has her hands full. Did I mention the geriatric poodle-mix who just paces around looking for things we can't see?
I’d like to say I help. But truthfully? I'm ashamed, but I mostly laugh. Laugh at the sight of my wife pacing the kitchen like she’s conducting military maneuvers, trying to keep one dog from stealing the other’s food bowl. Laugh at the chorus of whines, barks, and sighs that make up the soundtrack of our so-called “quiet retirement.”
And maybe, just maybe, laughing is my way of staying relevant. Because if I can still find humor in the chaos, if I can still write about "Hazel’s" adventures with her four-legged dependents, then maybe I haven’t aged out of the story just yet. I can still dodge a thrown sofa pillow....but that's another story.
Besides, somebody has to tell the world that while retirement looks serene on a brochure, in real life it’s more like:
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Wake up.
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Feed the Boxer.
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Clean up after the puppy.
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Repeat every two hours...or thirty minutes
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Watch "Hazel" mutter under her breath like she’s starring in her own sitcom.
Watch out for incoming sofa pillows.
As for me? I’ll keep laughing, keep writing, and keep reminding "Hazel" that one day she’ll thank me for documenting her legacy as the sainted dog whisperer of our golden years.
Until then, long live Hazel! Be blessed! 😂 wcd
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