Low Key Birthdays

It was my Birthday on Saturday.  I’m now 6 human years old.  That’s 42 dog years.  As all of you know, Tobermory and I have always had a party to celebrate our Birthdays.  Mummy makes a cake and our friends come over to share it with us and play a casual game of fetch while their humans occupy themselves, drinking falling over juice and consuming human kibble as its antidote.

I have to admit to being a little disappointed when Mummy said that I wouldn’t be having a party this year but understood the reason.  Our friends, Bailey and Sierra’s Mummy has her Daddy visiting from the land where humans wear green and carry little green plants with four leaves.  He turned 84 human years this weekend and they felt this should be celebrated.   That’s 588 dog years and it definitely cannot be disputed that 588 trumps 42.

Through my studies of human behavior, I have observed that as they get older they celebrate most of their Birthdays in a much lower key manner than they did when they were younger.  I didn’t want ours to feel bad about not holding a party for me, so told them I thought it was time that I followed this pattern of behavior.  We went for dinner at a local human feeding station called Aldo’s owned by a human who comes from a land shaped like a boot.  We always get to test bread there, but when Mummy told them it was my Birthday, they brought out a special dish of grilled chicken for Tobermory and me and all the humans that bring the food took it in turns to come over and give me a special Birthday tickle behind the ears.  Maybe this low key Birthday thing isn’t so bad.

Talisker

Bread Season

It’s now the beginning of bread season.  This doesn’t mean that we don’t get to test bread the rest of the year, but when it’s warm and bright outside we get to sit with our humans in the sun at their feeding stations.  You’d think that they’d remember that we need to test it first before they eat it, but no … it’s always the same at the beginning of every bread season.  They need to be reminded of their responsibilities.

Talisker

I Want a Mouse

Last week we went on an adventure.  Daddy strapped boards to the top of his motorized dog carrier and drove it up hills for a long time until we saw white fluffy stuff.  Of course, we had to stop half way to feed Mummy a bun with dead cow and cheese in the middle.  She gets really grumpy when she’s hungry.

 

 

There didn’t seem to be much white fluffy stuff when we got there but at least we got rewarded for our patience with a long run on a big field where humans hit little white balls with long sticks when it’s warm outside.  However, we didn’t get deprived of our white romping.  The next day lots of white fluffy stuff fell out of the sky … man, is that stuff fun!
 

We stayed with our humans in a little kennel with a mouse living in it.  Daddy says he’s called George.  I tried to introduce myself and interest him in a game of chase, but he was really shy and kept hiding under the sofa.  I even tried to stay up at night when he seemed to like roaming around to convince him to be my friend, but all that running in the mountain air is pretty tiring and I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

 

When our humans weren’t sliding down hills on boards, another human joined us in the motorized dog carrier, holding a pile of papers with pictures on.  We drove to lots of kennels and had to sit quietly while they went inside.  I’ve seen them do this when they go to falling over juice kennels in Sonoma, but they’re usually inside for much longer and mostly we get to join them.  Talisker said he wasn’t really sure, but he’d read on the writing box about something humans do when they’re looking for new kennels called “viewings” and he thought that was what ours were up to.  If that’s what they’re really doing, I think we should have a little input too.  I'm not demanding and have only one request.  I want one with a mouse like George, only less shy and more willing to play chase with me.

Tobermory