Here is my birthday boy. He is 12 today, which translates to around 70 in dog years, for a little 20 pounder like he. Actually, he is not 20 lbs any more, not since pesky Pickle came to pester him 24/7. He is slim and trim and perky as hell. Don't pay any attention to all that white on his muzzle, he's had that since he was 2. Okay, the white over his eyes came later, but still, what a guy! He came to live with me on an October day very like the one we are having today, warm but not sizzling hot, windy with papery leaves skittering before my car as I drove to town to get a gander at him. "Adorable Pekingnese/ShihTzu mix puppies" the ad read. And there was one little boy left. I might have been a little disappointed that he was black and white, but that lasted only a second. He was the runt. In fact, Pickle weighed a pound more than he did when she arrived at 7 weeks old. I knew that day that I was putting my heart out there where it could easily break, and that someday, it would, as Boo is temporary (as is everything, when I think about it). And I went for it, anyway, because I knew that he was 2lbs 2oz of pure love. And that is how it has been. Mellow, dear Boo.
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