Sooo weird. I was 32 when I lucked out and got the bestest dog ever. Two jobs ago. Three states ago. Fives homes ago. A lifetime for some. Hopefully half a life time for her.
I am so not someone who celebrates dogs’ birthdays. I have, however, told her for years that she can have cake when she’s 10. Technically that is not until tomorrow, but seeing as they don’t normally consume cakey like things, I pulled the party in to Sat morning to give myself 2 weekend days to deal with assplosions should there be any. One needs to be prepared for these things.
She was surprisingly nonchalant about the whole thing. I think she was trying to play it cool. Not get her hopes up in case she heard me wrong.
Did she say I could have “cake” or “Kate?”
She gave the cake thing a shot. Who wants to lick Kate, really?
Since there were no what-the-hell-are-you-doing’s…
Kate was not having it. No. I couldn’t, really.
Not supposed to touch stuffs on plates. Not interested in being felonious on this beautiful Saturday morning.
Not everyone concerned with the rules
I did talk Kate into a piece via spoon.
Eating off of a spoon is apparently OK.
Yes! It is!
It’s so funny how their personalities show in the way they wait. I had to ask them to hold on a sec while I got focused on the spoon.
Bella? No prob. Could sit there all day. Cake won’t leave her sight, but totally cool with waiting.
“Why do you hate me so much?”
And since it’s old fart day and the oldest fart in the house is home all by her lonesome I was forced to do the dumbest thing ever.
Ask an Aussie if they would like some cake.
Myka had her elevensies BD not too long ago. Last month, I think. I don’t think she had cake.