I’ve always known that I wasn’t as spry as I used to be. My fur has grown a little grayer over the years, and my steps have slowed down. The youthful energy I once had has faded, replaced by a calm, measured pace. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have love to give or joy to share.

Still, lately, I’ve been hearing whispers. “He’s getting old,” they say. “He’s not as useful as he once was.” It stings more than I care to admit. They don’t know that, even though my body isn’t what it used to be, my heart is still the same. I may not run as fast, but I’m here for them, ready to listen, comfort, and love with every ounce of strength I have.

I remember the days when I used to race around the yard, chasing after sticks and running alongside my humans. I would jump and play, full of life, eager to impress. But time has a way of changing things. The playful leaps have become slower, my joints creak when I stand up, and sometimes, I need a little help to get onto the couch. I can no longer fetch the ball with the same enthusiasm, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still want to be near my family, by their side, offering the comfort of my presence.

There are times when I hear them talking. They talk about me like I’m no longer the same dog they used to adore. It hurts when they call me useless. They don’t see what I still bring to their lives—the warmth of my loyalty, the comfort of my quiet companionship. I may not be the energetic pup I once was, but I still give them my love, and that’s something I’ll always be able to do, no matter how old I get.

I wonder, do they see me as I see myself? Do they remember the days when I was their protector, their friend, their constant companion? I was always there, waiting by the door when they came home, wagging my tail in excitement just to see them. Does that count for nothing now? Or am I just a reminder of the time that’s passed, of the years that have worn me down?

I watch them as they go about their lives, wondering if they know how much I still care, how much I still want to be with them. Even in my older age, I have so much love to give. Every scratch behind my ears, every moment they take to sit with me, fills my heart with gratitude. I may not be able to run or jump anymore, but I will always be here, loyal and true, offering the love that no one can take away from me.

But sometimes, late at night when the house is quiet, I ask myself the question that’s been in my heart for a while: Do they still love me? I’m not perfect, and I know I’ve changed, but does that mean I’m no longer worth loving? I’ve heard the whispers, felt the looks, but I hope they understand that I’m not done yet. I’m still here, and my love for them hasn’t faded, even if I’m no longer the lively pup I used to be.

So, I ask, with all the love I can muster, Do you criticize me too? Do you see me as I am now, with my slower pace and tired body? Or do you still see the dog who once filled your days with joy, the dog who will always be there for you, no matter what? I may not be able to run as fast or play as long, but I’m still here, with my heart full of love. And that’s all I can give.