12 Years a Biscuit
Good afternoon, blogowers! I hope you've been enjoying the "warmth" -- I know I have. When it's above 40 degrees in the winter, I like to lay in sun patches and pretend like it's not winter at all. Perry left the radio on for me this morning and I heard it's supposed to snow on Wednesday, so I'll be an Inside Dog for the end of the week.
Well, blogowers, as you may know, my birthday was this month! I am now 12, which is, like, 90 in human years. Yes, I'm old but I've had a full life with many good memories.
I don't remember my mother or my littermates, but I do remember being rescued and given a loving home. I remember playing with baby bunnies in the backyard as Perry looked on shocked that I hadn't eaten them. I remember riding in the truck with the windows down. Licking plates of delicious goo after dinner parties. Chasing birds and mice across the pumpkin patch. Trotting over to play with neighborhood kids when I'd get out of the house. Sleeping on my Christmas bed. Sleeping in front of the fire. Sleeping in MacKenzie's room. Sleeping in general.
I also have a lot of things to look forward to, such as Wedding Season, Market Season, more food, more sleeping, more love from my family, and the Presidential election! (What can I say, I'm super into politics...) I've heard people say that getting old is bad, but I don't think many dogs feel that way. The older we are, the more time we've been able to spend serving and enjoying the people we love. Dogs were made to serve and enjoy stuff. And sleep.