12 Months

Dear Rufus,

Yesterday you turned 12 months, or 1 year, or 8 years in big dog years, old.

I've been thinking for several months now how to properly celebrate this occasion, both in real life and on my blog. To celebrate in real life, Chad and I went out and bought you a ridiculous stuffed hedgehog that makes a peculiar snorting sound when you chomp down on it with your mouth, which you have been doing pretty much ever since we gave it to you, even through the night last night. As an added bonus, on our way home from Petsmart we wrote an offer for a townhouse with a patio and a tiny yard, just for you, Rufus, so that you will no longer have to do your business with the whole damn world watching. I know how awkward that's been for you.

For my blog, well, I could do the usual picture and story combo, but I feel pressured to sum up the year, which we all know would pretty much go something like: cute puppy, cute puppy, separation anxiety, asshole dog who chews holes in the drywall, cute puppy, separation anxiety, separation anxiety, SEPARATION ANXIETY, cute puppy, asshole dog who tears up everything I own, cute puppy. I think we've all got that down pretty well.

Instead, I thought I'd finally post a video I took of you MONTHS ago, when you were still a wee little one, something like 15 pounds. Now you're well into the 60-pound range, and growing. Also, you never would allow us to do anything like this to you nowadays. Chad originally made me promise I wouldn't post this video on my blog when I shot it because back then I kind of wrote an excess of posts about you, before I settled in nicely to this once-a-month format. Now, Chad says, the video is up for grabs. So, as a birthday gift to you, I am officially publicizing the best trick you have ever performed for us.

Happy first birthday, baby boy. You aren't a baby anymore.