Happy Birthday Bob!
One year ago today I picked up Bob from the pound. When I got him, the site said he was 12-14 months; the paperwork said he was 10-12 months, so I assigned his adoption day as his birthday as well. He is officially two years old today - a teenager (sniff).
What a journey so far. I got him in a swell of optimism knowing he would further help with my anxieties - I was hoping for the perfect symbiotic relationship. Then I panicked wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into. Destroyed curtains, cat-bitten/infected finger, dog-escape complete with police calling me home in the middle of work, complete failure in feline relations. Then, goddamn it, we bonded so frigging quickly, and so hard it was done. I redoubled my efforts and my attention - made easier by being unemployed all summer.
Long story short … best decision I ever made. I’m over the moon at being Bob’s owner. He’s so well trained now, he stays in his yard with no fence or e-fence or line. He walks down the street with me with no leash. He has never once had an accident in the house. He sits, lays down, shakes, stays, comes, heals, plays dead, rolls over, he knows wait, no and off.
Bob is the fucking man!
Happy Birthday Bobby-Boy!