We celebrated in grand style with an extra-long walk, a longer nap, a little leftover cheeseburger for lunch (hey, a guy’s got to splurge on his birthday!) a visit to Sunny’s paramour’s house for gifts and playtime,
with the day culminating in a trip to the fabulous Three Dog Bakery,
to pick up a special birthday cake. 
We’re pooped!
When we got home, we looked in the paper for Dog’s horoscope.
It says “If December 10 is your birthday…You can expect good fortune during the next few weeks.”
Undoubtedly more trips to Cameron’s house and an increase in chicken treats.
It continues…
“You are a hot prospect. Everyone loves to be close to the whiz kid and you certainly know your stuff. Don’t be surprised if you are the target of Cupid’s arrows this evening.”
Again, Damn you, Cameron! If I had only read the horoscope this morning!
But, seriously, it takes a village to raise a dog, so I am just happy that Dog has so many people who love him. As long as he comes home to me at night, I can forgive his dalliances.
On this momentous occasion, I thought it would be fitting to tell the tale of the real beginning of Dog’s life as he knows it, or how he came into our lives.
Be warned—This tale is overly sentimental, rambling and full of excruciatingly personal and minute details that are probably only fascinating to me. But, hey, it’s a blog, so that’s the deal, right?
Once upon a time there was a happy family of four, but something was missing. Our kids, as kids all over the world typically do, wanted a pet. We thought we would first try fish, the most unobtrusive, least-bothersome of pets. An ideal choice for a busy mother. But, two major problems—
Number One: The fish had an unfortunate tendency to pass away at just about the time we would start to get attached to them. (We have an extensive, multi-colored pebbled fish graveyard in the backyard as testament to both the attachment and the unfortunate, untimely, recurrent dying.)
Number Two: Fish aren’t really the most interactive of creatures. They aren’t the best at giving and receiving love as one would ideally desire in a pet. (Although my son’s insistence on trying to “pet” the Beta fish in the bowl, perhaps with not-the-most-sanitary or aquatically beneficial of hands may in part have contributed to problem Number One.)
We toyed with the other possibilities…Birds, Hamsters, rats—just more of problems Numbers One and Two, perhaps on a slightly lesser degree. I couldn’t get excited about owning any of these animals. It seemed to me to be more about the idea of “having a pet” while tolerating their existence and cleaning up a lot of poop—not my idea of a fulfilling experience.
My son, Carson, lobbied hard for a snake, but I told him he would have to wait until he had his own apartment.
Carson was also madly in love with cats and a cat would have been an obvious choice—long-living, possibly snuggly, yet easy to take care of and independent. But my husband is allergic and doesn’t like cats much anyway.
So, it had to be a dog. My husband was actually excited at the possibility, telling a friend at a dinner party that he wanted to get a dog so that he wouldn’t be the last person on the totem pole of our family for my affections.
If he only knew…
To be continued…
2 comments:
Happy Birthday Sunny!!!
Oh lord I'm a groupie.
(Never did I think i'd be one but I am.)
The whole day sounds like a blast and the pictures are fantastic.
Waiting with baited breath to hear the rest of the story... (well maybe 'bait' isnt the best term to use after all the recurrent fish deaths - may they rest in peace)
Lots of love to you, the family and the Dalai Dog himself,
M
Maithri,
Dog is so excited! He has had many girlfriends (both canine and human) and one stalker (more on that in a future post), but you are his very first groupie!
You will be the first to know when the T-shirts are ready!
Dog and our family thank you for your warm wishes and support. But Dog regrets to inform you that he won't be sharing any cake.
Post a Comment