Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Three

Our little baby...



who came to live with us when she was only slightly larger than a Beanie Baby...



had a birthday yesterday.



She turned three years old.



She was very excited. 



Because that makes her 21 in doggie years, which is the same age as our Oldest, Todd. 
Lucy asked him to take her out for a drink in celebration, but Todd said no. 
He didn't want to be seen with another woman.
Especially one a lovely as our Lucy.
His girlfriend might get jealous.


One would assume that our princess would have calmed down somewhat now that she's officially an adult.
One would be wrong.


Lucy is as wild as ever.


One might also assume that long three years would be adequate time for a dog to learn where she is supposed to, ahem, do her business. 
One would be wrong. 
Lucy is quite fond of doing her business in Todd's room. 
Or in front of Zach's closet if Todd's door happens to be closed.
Which explains why Lucy spends an extremely large portion of her days outside!



One may also assume that, at the age of three (21 in dog years) our little Lucy would have stopped sharking at the table and whining whenever her human family is eating dinner.  Or that she would have come to the understanding that every time a human puts his or her hand up to his or her mouth that human is not, in fact, inviting Lucy to partake of his or her cookie, piece of fruit, Tex-Mex chili or Diet Coke!

Again, one would be wrong.



Lucy is a huge fan of all people food. 
Her favorites include carrots, Pop Tarts, marshmallows, Rice Krispie treats, all kinds of cereal, bits of bacon, bites of steak, scrambled egg, and of course, anything left on the counter when no one is in the kitchen and she can climb onto the kitchen chairs, hop up onto the table and jump over to the counter for a nibble.
She maintains her girlish figure by staying active. 
She chases butterflies, birds, squirrels, neighbors, bugs and leaves from the yard on an hourly basis.
She also notifies us by barking loudly every time the wind blows.
Or a cloud floats by.
Or the sun rises.
Or a speck of dust wafts past.



Yes, we adore our little Lucy. 
We wouldn't trade for her anything.
Not even a calm, quiet, well-behaved, potty-trained dog.
We'll keep her around.

Happy Birthday, Lulu!
You rotten little thing.

1 comment:

mendyc said...

Happy Birthday Wucy!