The puppies, Flounder and Feather, turned eleven on MLK day this year. We know they were born in January, but years ago, we forgot the exact date, so we chose the Reverend King's birthday as an easy date to remember. I don't know if he liked dogs, but he was a good man and I don't think he'd mind.
At eleven, they don't bound out to greet me EVERY time I drive up ... like they used to. It's not that they don't worship me as much, it's just the whole bounding thing has become more of a challenge as they've aged.
This week, for some reason, they have gotten up from their cozy porch nest of pillows and blankets to come trotting over and welcome the JEEP and I.
Flounder can still manage to stand up and lean into the doorway, but Feather (who's a little chubby) no longer climbs up. This means Flounder gets the first lovin', scratchin', and ear rubbin', while Feather has to wait.
That drives her crazy as she LOOOOOVES me and is a little jealous. She's talking away in this picture ... not barking, but honest doggy attempts at speech. I've never owned a dog who "talked" so much ... but, then again, Feather is a girl dog.
Rest assured, after Flounder let me out, I got down on the grass and gave Feather the full ear and belly rub treatment.
After which, she took my forearm in her gentle mouth and led me to the feed can on the porch.
It's good to feel welcome.