I miss one of Ricky’s birthdays, and he’s acting like I’ve missed the last seven.
He turned nine last Wednesday while I was in Dallas and he was in the fancy kennel, and I’m making up for it now.
Nine is not young for a big dog. I imagine when I get to be the equivalent of his age, I’ll no longer need erectile softeners.
Happy birthday, sir.
Source of the article : New feed at Happy Belated.