Ginger

This is my littlest love, Ginger.

Everyday for 9 years this cotton-head tyrant has shared my life; a loyal little solider constantly at my feet.  Curled up in my lap, under the covers, in the passenger seat of my car, and even under the chair as I type these words, she is never far from me; her hurried beating heart in step with the rhythm of my life.  Don’t let her fluffiness and diminutive size fool you.  She is far from innocent.  This bad-mannered Bichon owes me hundreds in destroyed lingerie and cosmetics, but she makes no apology for her abhorrent behavior.  She just looks up at me with those wet black-olive eyes like I’m the one with the problem.

Ginger has been my accomplice since she was 2.5 pounds and only 8 weeks old. It seems like only yesterday, yet the vet called her a “senior” on our last visit. Neither of us liked that. Today, while we were on our regular walk, she got tired before we got home and I had to carry her for the last block.  It was in that moment that I remembered her birthday.  Oops!  October 4th was her 9th birthday, or 63rd in dog years. Unfortunately, her day got lost in the shuffle of my chaotic life.  My bad.  This year, we will have to celebrate on a different day.  In the meantime…

 

Happy Birthday sweet Gingi.  I love you baby. ❤  xo

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