Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Happy 49th birthday to my firstborn!
Today I am sad because my beloved biological dog Caesar turns 49! Okay, he actually turns 7, but that's 49 in dog years. Apart from a few stray gray hairs around his sweet little muzzle, Caesar has hardly aged and is as roguishly handsome as he's always been. This is comforting to me because the thought of Caesar passing on soon (the average lifespan for German Shepherds and Rottweilers both is 10 years) to doggy heaven is one I find extraordinarily painful to contemplate. I'm getting all teary just thinking about it, and you can ask anyone who has made the mistake of mentioning Old Yeller, White Fang, or Where the Red Fern Grows around me: dog mortality is a topic that I am emotionally VERY ill-equipped to handle. If I get all choked up just hearing the "Here, Yeller! Come back, Yeller! Best doggone dog in the West" song, you can imagine what happens when I consider the prospect of my own best doggone dog transcending this mortal coil. I've brought this dog from 5 pounds of fuzzy, blue-eyed, giant-pawed puppy cuteness to the 110 pounds of distinguished debonair canine that he is today, and he might as well be my fucking kid. I love this dog like a child, and I can't believe he's middle aged. Does this dog look like he's almost over-the-hill to you?
After you finish criticizing my woeful photography skills, you might see in Caesar's happy, goodfy face that he's still full of youthful spirit. Despite his advancing years, he continues to enjoy activities such as chasing sticks and squirrels, leaping joyfully around St. Nicholas Park like some kind of Alsatian-Bavarian gazelle, humping Chingy! into submission, snapping at flies, and barking out the window at the evil neighbors. He really hates those neighbors. They're always doing shady shit like walking around their apartment and adjusting their window blinds. They're up to something, and Caesar will never stop barking until he exposes them for all the nefarious existing that they do. This is Caesar's primary job, and he was up early at work even on his own birthday. He was also busy doing his secondary job, which is acting as a living pillow for his extremely hungover mommy to clutch desperately while trying to convince herself to get the fuck out of bed and go to lab.
Caesar is the best dog in the entire world, and I'm totally going to swing by a pizza place and bring him home a big slice of pepperoni (his favorite people food of all time) to celebrate. You only turn 49 in dog years once! Happy birthday, Caese!
Labels: aging, Caese Doggy Dogg, doggity style
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So handsome! Whenever "I Am Legend" comes on, I can only watch the first hour. Not just because the third act sucks, but because of what happens to the dog. In fact, just know what happens to the dog make the first half of the movie tough.
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# posted by 
: 10/08/2008 3:08 PM
: 10/08/2008 3:08 PM Links to this post:
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