Birthday Boy

Happy birthday to me!

Today is my 8th birthday.  Hard to believe, right?  Who would have thought that that nasty little puppy with a bad attitude would grow up to be such a handsome, fun loving, talented, loyal, and patient (as evident by my willingness to undergo yet another embarrassing photo-shoot) dog?

I can't wait to see what fun this day (and year) will bring!

Evolution

In the beginning, I slept on the cold, hard floor.  

That is until I discovered my pillow which was much softer.

Then I discovered the comforts of the human bed.  

Always looking for a better option, I tried out a hammock, but I don't think I was using it right.

And I tried Pa's chair, but I didn't have enough room to stretch out (plus he kept kicking me off).

So, I moved on to the couch (even though it was against the rules).

After months of negotiations, a compromise was made.  I could sleep on the couch, provided a sheet was put down to protect the upholstery (I was insulted, but I got over it quickly).  Ma would share the couch with me.  I had my end and she had her's.

But then one day, my end of the couch seemed a little less fluffy.  Kind of like the cushion was overused.  Taking into account all my previous experiments, I decided that there was only one logical thing to do:  I moved over to Ma's end of the couch.

It was much fluffier.

For Want of a Pocket

Humans take pockets for granted.  Think about it.  Whenever you want to temporarily free up your hands, you don't have to put down your property fearful that some other pup or human will swipe it.  No, you can just slip whatever you have in your pocket and continue on without a second thought.

Not me though.  No, I always have to be vigilant, ever concerned, that someone might swipe my toy when my attention is diverted.  That is, I used to be.  I recently discovered a technique which allows me to keep an eye on a possession while going about my day, specifically, getting a drink of water.

It happened a couple of days ago.  Sister had just come home from work and was showering me with all the ear rubs and neck scratches I wanted (Sister recently started a new job in a town far enough away that she isn't able to come home at lunch time to rub my ears.  As a result, she must provide me with an entire day's worth of attention as soon as she gets home).  In my mouth was my orange bally-ball, a toy Sister bought me at a store near her new job that I absolutely adore (I have actually delayed going to sleep at night in order to keep playing with it).

Anyway, I was hanging with Sister and my orange bally-ball when, out of the blue, I suddenly felt very thirsty.  Bally-ball still clenched firmly in my mouth, I hot footed my way over to my water bowl and looked in.  Staring up at me was my reflection--handsome as ever and obviously just as obsessed with the orange bally-ball as me.  But there was something else in that face, a sort of smugness.  It took me a minute to fully comprehend, but I eventually realized that that smugness was my reflection asking "so, how you gonna get a drink of water with that bally-ball in your mouth?"

Panic set in.  If I held onto my orange bally-ball, I wouldn't be able to get a drink of water.  If I put the ball down, say, beside me, then some nefarious person (Sister) might swoop in and steal it.  What was I to do? 

Suddenly, the solution came to me.

A Reenactment

With a "pththth" and a "splash," I spit my orange bally-ball into my water bowl and drank around it.  Sure, the floating obstruction made it a little difficult to drink from the bottom of the bowl up like I'm want to do, but I had ample room to get a drink and ensure that my chin sopped up enough water to flood the floor of my choice later on.

When I had drunk my fill, I fished my bally-ball out of the bowl and turned back to Sister.  She was doubled over laughing.  Let's just say that I had no other option but to wipe my sopping wet chin on her pant leg.