Papaya turned 13 last Saturday. I was late to the party: No gifts (delayed shipping). No special treats (forgot about my stash of Greenies). Not even good weather.
When I finally threw her new Frisbee, she fetched only after I pointed and screeched about it. Her back legs are getting weaker, so things like running and jumping and getting in the car are less enticing. Yet I came home twice last week to see she had knocked over a floor lamp.
Oh no, Papa!
The great thing is, even at 91 or so years old, she is as enthusiastic as ever about company. Not just me, either — Katy, Sarah, and Anna at brunch, Terry at coffee, the mailman at my parents' house.
Thanks for all the lovins, Pops!
2 comments:
Happy Birthday to Papa! She is still a baby to me! Our dog, Ghalli, is the same age! I know about the back legs ... I keep reminding him to take it easy when he runs, or he forgets!
I have nominated you for a Very Inspiring Blogger Award today (April 10) on my blog. I hope you will accept it!
love, jean
Jean, thank you! Pops is still a baby to me, too. :)
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