I am SEVEN years old today! Happy birthday to me! Well, at least we are pretending that I am seven today, because we don't really know when my birthday is. This is the problem with becoming a stray dog. The people who rescue you don't know where you came from or when you were born or what has happened to you before they found you. This is one reason I don't recommend being a homeless stray, if you can possibly avoid it!
Anyway, when the nice basenji rescue lady sprung me from the pound in Houston, she took me to her vet's office to get my shots and to get spayed. The vet thought I was about 2 years old, and he assigned that day when I was there, November 12, as my birthday. So that's how I got my birthday, and I'm glad to at least have a date to celebrate because it's better than not having one.
When Dr. Patricia met me for the first time, after Mom adopted me, she thought I might be younger than two years old. So it's possible that I'm not really seven yet, but nobody knows for sure because I don't have a birth certificate or AKC papers or anything official like that.
I wasn't sure what to write about in my blog on my birthday, so first I thought maybe I would write about some educational subject like the history of birthdays. But then I decided I'd rather write about a topic I'm more interested in, which is the topic of ME! Mom said that since it was my birthday, I could write about anything I wanted to, so I'm going to write about my favorite subject, ME!
The trouble is that I've already told you a whole bunch of stuff about myself and my exciting life, so I have been trying to think of something I haven't told you yet. And here's what I came up with: Did you know that I used to have a broken shoulder blade? It's true, I did. It's all healed up now, of course, so no one knew about it until Mom had me x-rayed one time. That's when Dr. Patricia saw on the x-ray that my shoulder blade had been broken. Mom thought maybe I got hit by a car or else maybe somebody dropped me when I was just a little squirmy puppy. But Dr. Patricia thought maybe I had been kicked, and that's how my shoulder blade got broken.
I don't remember too much about the incident, really, and even if it was true that I got kicked, I would not want to reveal the identity of the kicker because that person might get mad and come and kick me in the other shoulder blade! So Mom and Dr. Patricia will just have to make up theories without ever knowing the true answer to how my shoulder blade got broken. But I will just add that when I had my knee surgery, Dr. Lineberger, who did the surgery, looked at my x-rays, and he also thought I might have been kicked in the shoulder.
But that's enough about that! It's my birthday, and I want to talk about happy stuff! I'll bet you are probably sitting on the edge of your chair, waiting to find out what I will be doing to celebrate my very special day. Well, the answer is.............nothing much! At our house, we don't really go in for celebrating birthdays or holidays. Mom might give me a special treat and some extra petting, but that's really about all I can expect.
I will just mention, though, that Mom went out Tuesday and bought herself a new pair of shoes. I think she may have used my upcoming birthday as an excuse to buy herself a present, but she says that she needed the shoes, and she would have bought them anyway, even if it wasn't my birthday. I'm not sure if she's telling the truth about this. I am just reporting what she said.
Well, I guess that's all I have to say on this special occasion of my 7th Birthday. I wish Mom would bake me a big chicken cake with liver-flavored icing, but I know better than to expect her to do that!