Today is my 7th birthday. That is 7 long years during which Master and Mistress have benefited from my presence in their lives and during which I have been endlessly patient with their many idiosyncrasies and foibles. Apparently 7 years of a dog’s life is equivalent to 49 human years, so I did not at all appreciate Master’s comment earlier today that my time with him felt like every bit of 49 years because I was showing little sign of graduating from skittish adolescence into some semblance of sensible mature adulthood. I think the fact that we have recently all been around each other too much is making him grumpy.
You would imagine that, this being my birthday, some sort of special ceremony or better still some rather special celebratory biscuit might have been in order. But no. This was a day of routine, routine and more routine. Early morning walk; small slice of carrot grudgingly given; short sleep; small treat from the postman who gives treats (some don’t); short sleep: afternoon walk; small sprinkling of dry food; bonio; chew; and now, I am waiting for Master to throw balls for me. He is good at getting the balls to bounce in the air so that I can grab them mid-flight. I really enjoy that but the throw balls sessions never go on long enough for me. I suppose that’s because Master is getting on a bit now – he is certainly more than 49 human years old. After we’ve done that I will rest a bit until dark. Perhaps it is living with me that is making him look old.
Today has been warm and pleasant – just the weather for a whippet to enjoy his birthday lying on his garden bed. Even Master was seen to smile briefly as he was sitting having his tea and biscuit in the garden, with me at his feet. There is always a slight chance that he might “accidentally” drop a corner of biscuit on the ground, so it is important that I am there to sweep it up. Unfortunately, Mistress is usually ready to pounce if it looks as though I’m about to do this. She caught me successfully chewing my way through a human biscuit a few evenings back and even now I can still hear her anger ringing in my ears.
So there it is. Another birthday gone. Another day of predictable routine which, despite my protestations, is probably just how I like it.
Happy Birthday – Whippet
Lovely, yet a little sad. Rather poignant for me as I’m awaiting our new puppy and as ‘elderly’ parents (also over 49) hope we can bring years of joy to our new arrival!🥰
Thank you for your comment, Julie. I am sure your puppy will give you years of joy and you will make him/her very happy in return. You can read about our previous whippet, Hamish, in the page marked Cave Canem
Bad Luck Archie on your 49th with no extra bones, but just wait for your 50th. 7/365 days to come. John F
I really enjoyed reading this Eric… it made me smile. My Whippet turned 8 years last Friday and it’s a real marker of time. Life for me is much better with a “skittish” Whippet who doesn’t understand she’s now a seasoned adult.
Thanks for this feedback, Paul, and greetings to your whippet from Archie.
… and greetings back to Archie!