That's twelve in human years.
But that's eight thousand and seventy-two in doggie years. Or 84. It's one of those.
And we're proud as can be of our Old Man of the Boonies, the rare White Chocolate Labrador.
Deakie Boy is a scientist, in every sense of the word. How do we know this? Because he always walks around wearing his Lab coat. (Insert Three Stooges Laughter here: nyuck, nyuck, nyuck.)
But even though Old Iron Tum, the Plastivore, is older than Methuselah (if you go with the older estimate I gave you earlier), he's a puppy at heart.
What's that? You want PROOF?
I gotcher proof, right here, Baybay.
Because in honor of his birthday, following his breakfast and his glucosamine chondroitin supplement, he retired to my bedroom, upstairs, seeking the solace of a sunbeam to warm his arthritic joints. Apparently, he was also seeking the satisfaction of a good, mouthful of a little sumpin'-sumpin' to chew.
Because maybe YOU thought, and I CERTAINLY thought, that as a senior citizen, despite his silky smooth and soft puppy fur, Deaky Boy had outgrown his childish ways? Au contraire, mon cher.
Deaky's philosophy is: if you can't find something to chew, chew the one you're with.
So, I went upstairs for some reason, and found the GUILTY party, up to his old puppy tricks. He hadn't chewed up anything in
|"Oh, say, SoozieGirl, I feel so ashamed...so very, very, very ashamed."|
|"No, really, I'm inconsolable.|
How could I do such a thing AGAIN???"
|"But...ya know...we Senior Citizens need our fiber....|
I hope my sweet pink nose and sad brown eyes help you want to forgive me, SoozieGirl.
I love you so."
Eh... no worries, Deak. What's a paltry purple colored pencil among pals?
My Old Man is still kickin'.
His body may be moving a lot slower, but there's a lot of puppy in the old feller yet.
Long live my boyboy.
Old Iron Tum: may your fiber never falter.
What's your pet destroyed lately? :-D (This could be fun!!!)