Thursday, November 13, 2008

Happy birthday to Me!


Sailor here. Today is my birthday, according to my pedigree and to my Mom. She says it’s really the anniversary of my birthday because I only had one real birthday and that was ten years ago. In human years, that is, not in dog years.

Mom says that if you count 10.5 dog years per human year for the first 2 years, then 4 dog years per human year for each year after, this makes me 53. If the first year of my life was about the first fifteen years for a human and if the first two years were equal to twenty-four human years, and after that, if each year is equivalent to four years, than I am 56 in Mom years. Another place on the Internet told Mom that is I weigh between 51 and 90 lbs. (and I do), I am 66!
So which is it?

Who cares? I feel young! I run in the backyard chasing Jib and squirrels and barking at the mailman through the fence. I run many, many agility courses at class and a few more at home. I eat like there’s no tomorrow and I remember eating like this since my puppy days. I still bark and jump when Mom comes home, but I don’t jump on Mom any more. I jump next to her. And I taught Jibby to do this, too.

I am young! Except a little bit when I take a nap at night and have to stand up when I wake up and my legs are a little stiff for the first step or two. Zoe is like this, too, in the morning, and she’s even older than me. She is twelve in Mom years and too many for me to count in dog years.

I am young! My digestion is as good as it’s always been, but most dog cookies that crunch make my eyes run. I only used to get goopy eyes from wheat, but Mom says that my Moon System is not so young any more, so my eyes run with grains. I don’t ever remember running with grains. I run with Zoe and Jib and with Mom at agility, but not with grains.

I am young, but I have matured, too. I no longer gnash my teeth when Mom says things that confuzle me. Like the grain thing. I just smile and pant and let it all roll off my back like a light rain. And the best part about this is that I never get my face wet.

I have matured. I have finally learned to love heeling at Dog School and retrieving my dumbbell and jumping over the broad jump. And I never wake up stiff after this.

I have matured. I don’t bark hysterically when the doorbell rings. I let Jib do this for me. Mom says that I may be getting a little hard of hearing, like Zoe who has to be within ten feet of Mom when she calls her for supper. But when Mom whispers, “Cookie,” or opens a bag of potato chips and I am in the other room or down the hall, I can hear just fine. Then I come running. You never know….

I have matured. And I am still young in my heart. Mom says I awake to each day like it was my first. And she says that I am blessed because I don’t know that one day, that day will be my last.

I think I will let this roll off my back like the summer rain.

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