As I gazed out the window, the sun was just coming up over the lake. The ripples caused by a passing fishing boat allowed the sunbeam to hypnotically sparkle across both sides of the lake, gradually decreasing until the lake surface was once again smooth.

As I rolled to one side to softly wake Linda, I was met by a pair of beady eyes and the hot breath of Big Foot. Linda’s place in the bed was now occupied by our Airedale, Molly, lying on her back with all four feet straight up.

Welcome to 2018.

Since the day Linda and I were married, we’ve had dogs and cats, usually several of each, and all have been accustomed to sharing our bed. A few times, Linda would bring home a stray dog or cat, some of which stayed and some of which disappeared within a few days.

I remember the time we brought home a very old pregnant beagle that slept most of the day. We could tell that she had about nine pups coming, and since we were both in college full-time, we would likely not be home when she went into labor.

A visit to the vet confirmed our fears that she was in very poor health and would not likely be able to nurse all those pups — if she even survived their birth. If this occurred now, we would spend the money to save momma dog and every pup, but back then, we could barely afford to feed ourselves.

I was in graduate school in Knoxville and Linda was finishing her undergraduate degree at Cumberland College. We drove to UT every day for my classes and then 70 miles the opposite way for Linda’s classes.

Back then, there was no “living allowance” built in to student loans. We were poor, but we made do with part-time jobs.

We rented a little cottage on Norris Lake and heated it with firewood. Winter weather in Tennessee is generally mild, but the winter of 1978 was definitely the exception, as it was in Ohio.

It was so quiet at night that you could actually hear the snow falling. Walking along the lake shore on a moonlit night was magical, and since we didn’t own a TV, it was also our entertainment.

I managed to shovel ourselves out after two days and did grocery shopping for our older neighbors for the whole month of December.

Near the University of Tennessee campus, there was a Krystal burger joint (think “White Castle”) where we could usually scrape enough money together from the bottom of Linda’s purse to buy a few burgers and maybe a fry. Water was the preferred drink because it was free. We could both eat for $2.

Gasoline had spiked to 50 cents per gallon, so another $2 would provide our daily transportation needs. We ate at Krystal a lot that first year.

When our children started arriving, they, like the dogs, didn’t have an income. Nonetheless, we allowed the kids to stay inside and moved the dogs to an outside heated shed.

We considered other options, but Children’s Services assured me that children could not be relegated to a shed, heated or otherwise.

Looking back, we now realize that children can safely drink out of the same bowl as the dogs, and allowing a dog to lick spaghetti off of a baby’s face saves on napkins and also reduces garbage in the landfills.

And despite having dog hair in the carpeting, babies will eventually cough up a fur ball just like cats do. We just thought we were being good parents when we evicted the dogs.

The other day Linda and I stopped at Krystal burger in Knoxville, bringing us full circle some 41 years later. Sadly, our old Krystal burger is now an Applebee’s, and Ollie’s Trolley, our second-favorite burger joint for the poor at that time, is now a Roosters.

In fact, most everything we remember is gone and replaced by something bigger, but not always better. I seriously doubt if newly married, marginally employed, full-time students could survive like we did.

Anyway, five Krystal burgers, chili cheese fries and water was now $8.22.

Retirement has brought us back to the beginning in many respects. It’s again just us and the dogs and cat.

We love our children but we won’t give them our address for fear they will move home.

We used to survive on tomato soup and grilled cheese out of necessity. Now, it’s actually one of our preferred meals because of its simplicity. Of course, our dogs would rather we fixed pork chops, mashed potatoes and gravy, but until they can get Social Security benefits, they don’t get a vote.

Aside from being 42 years older, not much has changed.

We still watch our pennies, we still hold hands every day, and we still have dogs in our bed.

Life could be worse.

Dennis Mattingly is a resident of Wilmington, among other towns.