I forgot all about it last week, until my person came home with a larger-than-usual bag of snacks and goodies. Then he said “Happy Birthday! You’re ten years old!” (It was the day they call “the third”, though it seems like there have been a lot more than three days in the last few years)
I’m not really sure what the big deal is. I didn’t do anything special. But I guess my people thought I was special for the day, and that made me very happy. The Jack Link’s beef jerky meant a lot, too.
Most of our beloved snow has melted away, and today it’s rainy. Maybe winter is over? Gosh, it seemed really short, or maybe that’s just because I’m getting old. How often do we get birthdays, anyway? Maybe I’ll have another this week, and more jerky.
Clear trails,
Sasha