Measure of our days

My dog Blue has developed a limp over the past week that has refused to heal. Part of the problem is of course that he refuses to let it heal. He being a Lab is gung-ho kind of guy and all attempts to curb his insanse chasing after balls, sticks, whatever are futile. I took him to the vet where of course his limp magically went away and the vet just said to put him on anti-inflammatories. But seeing him limp along has given me visions of him in the future, arthritis-ridden as he is sure to be, trying to ignore the pain and fulfill his destiny, which is bring that ball back to me, and dreaming of his younger days.

Having a pet puts the whole cycle of introduction, attachment, loss and berievement into fast forward. And it gets me to thinking about Blue, when he is approaching the end of his days, willjudge his life (OK, I know dogs don't do that, but stay with me for a second). Will he consider that he has had a good life, since he has been able to run and play freely, had all the food he wants (OK, maybe not ALL) , and had a good owner/caretaker/person who loves him more than anything? Or will he focus all the times I left him home alone while I went to work, all the streams and lakes I wouldn't let him swim in, all the rotten bread and other garbage I wouldn't let him eat?

And of course this naturally turns back to me and how I judge my life.