Harper, it’s your birthday

Harper it’s your birthday…Happy Birthday Harper

We don’t know Harper’s biological birthday because he was a stray picked up and brought to a shelter. They estimated he was about 15 months old, so we did some math and picked January 27th. This year he is five. I can’t believe it. He looks so young in the pictures from when we first brought him home:

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I think a lot about how sad I will be when his life is over, and how it seems to be going so quickly! I can’t believe I was only 25 when we adopted him. I’m feeling extra emotional about it after a friend lost her sweet dog this week on Tuesday. I chipped in at the office to send her some flowers. I know I would be a wreck.

When you don’t want to have kids, though, and you’re totally nuts about your dog, people think that you have pets instead of having kids. This is not at all the case with me. Kids are hard. You have to do things that will make your children productive members of society. They grow up and move away. But a dog, you just have to feed and cuddle and play.

Harper has never called me “Mom.” (I know, no one’s dog has ever really called anyone “Mom,” but you know what I mean.) We have always thought that obviously Harper doesn’t consider us his parents, and he doesn’t know our names. He can probably tell that one of us is a male and one’s a female, so we’ve always thought of him as thinking of us as The Man and The Lady.

I know he’s a happy dog with a good life, but I wish I could spend more time with him. Is stay-at-home-dog-owner a thing? I have taken him into work with me a few times, but he’s not really allowed to be there all the time.

Happy Birthday, Harper. Even though you don’t even know what the internet is. (Except for twitter.)

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