My Fifteenth Birthday

From these humble beginnings...

...grew a mature (and devilishly handsome) dog
who turns 15 years old today!

 

Bloopers and Behind the Scenes:

Hitch-Hikers, Sail Squirrels, and Flo

As a distinguished (and devilishly handsome) senior, one might assume that my days are filled with meandering walks, long naps in the sun, and hours of screaming “get off my lawn” at the top of my lungs at every passing squirrel, mailman, and figment of my imagination.  Well, my life is anything but structured and boring (though I do spend many an hour screaming “get off my lawn” at all creatures great, small, and imaginary).  Here’s three things that happened to me over the last couple of weeks. 

Hitch-Hikers:

Bumble bees have suddenly taken to landing on my back and hitch-hiking across the yard.  And it wasn’t a one-off thing…it happened twice in two days last week! I’m really at a loss for why this is happening; it’s not like I’ve recently received a bath and smell like that nasty lavender shampoo my family slathers on me—I’m pleasantly stinky thank you very much.

Flo:

Flo is the Golden Retriever who lives down the road who I routinely meet up with during my walks.  She mooches pets from my Pa and I mooch pets from her Pa.  Then we go our separate ways.  Well one day last week, I was hanging out inside the house and all of a sudden I sensed movement on my deck and started barking hysterically.  Turns out, it was Flo—she had wandered onto my deck when her dad stopped by to talk to my dad.  Anyway, Ma opened the door to see what was going on and would you believe it?! Flo just walked right into my house like she owned the place.  Now, Flo is generally cool (you’ve got to appreciate anyone who has trained the mailman to leave a daily delivery of chicken meatballs in your mailbox…not that I’m jealous or anything) but to just invite yourself in to someone else’s house?  That’s a bit much. 

Sail Squirrel:

On our daily walks, Pa and I come across a dead squirrel that has been decomposing on the side of the road for weeks now.  He’s been around for so long that my family has even given him a name, “Cadaver Bob.”  Everyday, I walk up to Cadaver Bob and give him a sniff.  Then I look up at Pa inquisitively.  “You can leave him,” Pa assures me and I’m like “Yeah, I wouldn’t touch that thing with a ten-foot pole. Why hasn’t anyone done anything about the body yet?”