Our Dog Lucy

Today our baby turns five. It’s hard to believe our puppy is a senior now.

Okay, before I start getting hate mail for calling our five year old dog a senior, let me clear a few things up. First of all, she is a Great Dane, so life expectancy is only between seven to nine years. However, due to the horrific health problems from allergies and the medications to keep her comfortable, she’ll probably be on the shorter end of that average. So while she still acts like a puppy most of the time, she is starting to show signs of aging in her face and when we wake her from her slumber.

Anyway, Lucy is five years old today, and we have no plans with her. Does that make us bad puppy parents? I mean, I could always use the excuse that I have twenty batches of cake to mix and bake and cool today, or that we are in the middle of packing and moving to not celebrate this milestone. I could, but should I? Methinks not. Besides, I have to run back to the store anyway because last night I got a call from one of the grooms for the wedding cake I’m making and we need to change the bottom tier of the cake from a 12” square to a 16” square to accommodate the last minute people who decided not to RSVP in a timely manner. I knew I should’ve picked up enough supplies for more than just a little bit of overage but was thinking I didn’t want to pack and move anything extra if I didn’t have to. Curses.

So perhaps while at the store I’ll pick up some stuff for a nice dinner for Lucy. Nothing fancy, just some smoked salmon to which I will add some peas, potatoes, carrots and apples and just enough for a meal. Besides, last year I made her a meat cake with mashed potato frosting and while that was fun, I also didn’t have a huge cake order to contend with and could take the time to make it.

Our Lucy may not have any manners and may get in the way a lot and may have a super-jealous streak and may have chronic yeast infections and allergies to practically everything, but we love her and wouldn’t trade any of that for another dog. I just wish we were financially able to give her a little brother to play with, but at the same time I think she is perfectly content having us all to herself… with the cats, of course.

Happy Birthday, Woman (Little House on the Prairie reference, so please don’t get all up in my grill if you are highly offended by the tone.) I hope you adjust better to the move than I think I will, and I hope that your goofiness, clumsiness and complete lack of grace continue to shine for many years to come.