Jeepers Creepers

Jeepers Creepers, where did you get those peepers, Pete?  Mr. Magoo?

Pete, the short one who's driving, shouldn't be driving anymore.  His vision is beginning to play tricks on him.
For months now, he's refused to go potty before bed time, unless I follow him with a flash light.  Not an annoyance, unless it's below freezing. 
Last week, he decided the laminated floor was out to get him and he's refuse to go from his couch to the front door.  No amount of coaxing, praise, even a Hansel and Gretel trail of cut up steak could sway him.  Lights off, on, night lights. Nada.  Monsieur refused to budge. 
Until tonight:

Carpet pad remnant stretches from the back door on.  Pity it's not red, my house can use some glam.
Encouraged that he could be reprogrammed, I then fitted him with Cole's harness and a head lantern.

I sense he disapproves of my invention...
Oh, wait... first tentative steps.

And he's off!  Way off.  And going and going...