Ode to the dog

Guarding the homestead - or maybe just taking a breather...

With the some of the family after doing what he loves best - running free up a hiking trail while peeing wherever his little heart desires!

Recently Griffey turned 12 years old, and the older he gets, the more he definitely wears on us. He's a part of the family and we get a kick out of the zany things he does. He's not the wanderer he once was: he prefers to stay closer to home now that he's a "senior citizen dog", but he still yips in the morning when he hears the dresser drawers open because he knows that it means someone is getting up, getting dressed, and probably going for a run and he does not want to be left out of the fun!

Here's a poem that sums our dog up:

My Dog May Be a Genius
by Jack Pretlutsky

My dog may be a genius,
and in fact, there's little doubt.
He recognizes many words,
unless I spell them out.
If I so much as whisper "walk",
he hurries off at once
to fetch his leash...it's evident
my dog is not a dunce.

I can't say "food" in front of him,
I spell f-o-o-d,
and he goes wild unless I spell
his t-r-e-a-t.
But recently this tactic
isn't working out too well.
I think my d-o-g has learned to
s-p-e-l-l.

Happy Birthday to the world's smartest (and fittest) dog. Not sure there are many 12 year old dogs out there with the energy, stamina, and anticipation of Griffey the dog. We like him and hope he continues to take us for runs for a long, long, long time!