63 in Human Years

This past week, one of the most important men in my life celebrated a birthday. He would be 63 years old if he was a human, but in doggie years he is nine. Funny story actually. For years, I thought Dooley’s papers read that he was born in 2001. So naturally, I would be dreading this birthday as it would mark #11. That’s an old age for a Basset Hound, for any dog. And that’s something that isn’t easy to come to terms with. We came across his papers the other day as we were packing, and found that in fact he was born in 2003. If that doesn’t make me feel like a bad mom–who doesn’t know how old their kid is? Needless to say, I’m glad the news was in our favor. We celebrated with a few extra belly rubs and treats.

(He was not a fan of the birthday hat last year. I vetoed it for this year)

{This year’s birthday with some kisses}

Sincerely,

THE GIRL IN THE YELLOW CAB