Happy Birthday Fur Baby

Lily is eleven today. Here is a picture of her as a puppy snoozing on my winter coat. I was wearing it the day we brought her home. The breeder suggested I put her inside my coat and snuggle her up next to my heart. (Even though I always looked like a football player in a snowstorm when I wore that coat, I still have it because it’s like my wedding dress—the symbol of a happy memory I don’t want to forget).
We have nothing special planned for Lily’s birthday. I could throw her a party and invite her best fur buds, but she doesn’t have any. Large or small, she will chase off any dog that invades her territory. (And don’t get me started on the cat thing). So what I have planned is a special birthday dinner of steamed veggies and Kraft Dinner. Do they put something in KD that makes it addictive? Whatever it is, Lily just goes mental over it.
Then again she loves anything foodish: avocado, peanut butter, cheese, banana, pancakes…the list is endless. She even broke into some chocolates one Christmas morning and didn’t miss a beat even though chocolates are supposed to be poisonous to dogs. I’m sure if I baked her a cake, she’d go for that too. But you have to draw the line somewhere. When you can.
Lily has slowed down some in the last couple of years. But she still climbs stairs easily, jumps up on the furniture, and chases squirrels and airplanes. You couldn’t ask for a more loyal and loving friend. I’m going to sign off now and hold her close to my heart.