Foster Mama told me that she turns 29 years old today. That’s like 200 bazillion years old in dog years. That’s old!
Luckily she has me and the Turkeyman and Rufus-Doofus to take care of her. Oh, and Foster Dad. He takes care of her too (even though he’s even older at 201 bazillion years old). Really, she’s a pretty lucky lady. Wouldn’t you agree?
Since I can’t really go anywhere by myself yet (Foster Mama says I need to learn some more basic things like “sit” and “down” before she’ll let me have the keys to the car), I couldn’t go buy her a prezzie, but I have something even better. I plan to start with a monster cuddle where I curl up around her head when she is laying down. Then I’m thinking we’ll share a marrow bone (if she’s into that) and maybe I’ll even sneak her a smooch or two. Best presents ever, right? I told ya I know how to woo the ladies….