5.16.2011

G is for Golden Retriever

...in this case, my own Golden Retriever, my sweet boy Puck. True, he's not a purebred, but that's what he most closely resembles, so that's what I've always called him. Puckie turned 12 back in March, which I can scarcely believe. He's definitely lost a step or two...the poor guy has to wear special grippy "kitten mittons" on his back feet so that he doesn't slide all over our tile and hardwood floors thanks to degenerating nerves in his rear end. Man, getting old sucks.

Still, he's mentally the same old Puck, and loves to bark at cats and get his mane scratched. And he still does "The Fang", which is my name for the snaggly front tooth that shows when he curls up his front lip during an especially productive scratch.

He'll always be my first baby...I love him soooo much!



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