I think it is totally appropriate to break my (unintended) blogging silence with a post to wish my little girlie a Happy Birthday.
She is, believe it or not, eight years old today-ish (her exact birthday is unknown, but this is her approximate birthday judging from radiographs taken right before she became mine).
Eight years old means fully grown, mature, almost old. Right?
She still FRAPs when excited or bored — she tears through my apartment, jumping from rug to rug, leaping over furniture. She thinks every human being (almost) exists to give her pets. If you sit on the ground, that is definitely a sign that you are there to play with her. She still thinks, if you are not paying attention and there is a bus or truck on the road, that she may have to put it in its place.
There is nothing in the world she loves more than flying. Can you find The Lucy in the photo below?
Her command to finish her food is, “Can I give it to Finn?”
I remember the very first time she fell asleep outside of her crate. She was a little over one and it took a 12 mile hike. One sign of her age is Lucy knows how to lounge around…She can often be found in a pool of sunlight….
…or of course, on furniture where she is technically not supposed to be.