I’ve never been good at letting sleeping dogs lie. I’m more apt to poke them, just because I can. Make of that what you will.
In the literal sense, this is why Boxers are one of my very favoritest breeds. They just do not care. If there’s nothing better to do, they’ll sleep, but as soon as it looks like there might be something more interesting on offer (poke, poke), they’re ready to go-go-go.
Right now, Harriet is crashed out behind my computer chair, napping away and generally being lazy. Tomorrow is her 7th birthday, which is not an old age for a dog. Boxers never grow up, but they don’t generally have a long life-span, so it’s a little sad to think that she’s getting on in age. She’s been greying around the muzzle for quite awhile now, and yesterday I noticed that her front legs are starting to turn grey, too. She’s also developed white patches inside her ears
So happy birthday a day early, because I’m likely to forget tomorrow, what with my swiss cheese brain and all.
red paper boat 