He's freakin' 8 years old now and you can't even tell. Aside from a little arthritis setting in along his SI joints, he moves as fast, eats as much, poops as much and is as obnoxious (maybe more so) as he was when he was 2. Today he flipped his lid at a bicycle that was parked just outside the window--I mean flipped. He had a mohawk all the way from his neck to his buns. Thus the drapes on this window are typically closed. He doesn't even have any white whiskers to show for his added, ahem, maturity.
That being said, his constant attempts to throw his weight around (an apparent effort to protect me from all possible offenders, be they chihuahua or gangsta) are nothing short of funny. Because he looks like he has puffy pants. The way his fur grows on his buns makes him look like he's wearing fluffy britches. So when he's all in a tizzy over a dog he can see down the block (oh when will he start to lose his vision just a little?) or hearing ultrasonic dog noises from across town (and about that acute-as-hell hearing...), you just can't take him seriously.
Woof!
ReplyDeleteMr. Tom