Not long after we got married, Seth found Lily on Petfinder and sent me her picture. He sent it six times that day. "How about this one?" He kept saying, showing me that same photo over and over. Any self-respecting dog lover couldn't resist.
Lily, the laziest, hard working dog there is. Sometimes she loves accompanying me to the farm. Sometimes it's a battle of wills to get her in the car. We've been through a lot as the three musketeers: moves, mold, career changes, cancer, the tiny house, and now the baby.
We're not the type to celebrate dog birthdays, but I did want to give a shout out to the sweetest dog on the block, eight years almost to the day we brought her home. She has matured into a lovable beast, smart as a whip, with eyes that seem human. Especially when she gives the baby side-eye! Lily runs to the baby now when she starts crying so she can lick her face, and will allow Addie to mess with her back legs and paws, but not her front. She seems resigned to sharing us with this puppy-like human.
Eight is a lot in dog years for a dog her size. And yet I can't start thinking about her leaving us, not yet. It hasn't been enough time together. But I feel pretty confident in her staying with us a while longer. After all, the oldest dog who lived was an Australian Cattle Dog, and he achieved the age of almost 30.
Do you hear that, Lily-bil? We have another 22 years before us. Party on, my sweet puppy girl.