My baby girl turned 10 on Tuesday. We began the day by celebrating a birthday breakfast at Cracker Barrel. Our breakfast conversation revolved around the birthday girl, and how thankful we are for her.
Fiddledaddy’s mom began a tradition years and years ago wherein on each child’s birthday, she would re-tell them the story of their birth. Which frankly, after birthing 6 children, the youngest of which is around 40, I cannot fathom how she keeps all of them straight. I fear if it were me, I’d embellish the details until the story is no longer recognizable.
Nevertheless, I thought we’d continue the tradition, and asked Cailey if she’d like us to recount the story of her birth. She replied, “No thanks, I’m eating.”
It was a touching moment.
Afterward we ended up in Petco, because nothing says “Happy Birthday, 10 year old!” like shopping for the dog. Which wasn’t even there.
We found our favorite Petco employee who is very knowledgable about All Things Dog. After hearing our tale of woe about Mater chewing up his $35 orthopedic bed, the dog expert concluded that Mater was suffering from separation anxiety. So that whenever he is in his
condo crate and we’re not there, he worries that we may never come back.
Which, if he keeps chewing up $35 orthopedic beds, could come to fruition.
I guess this makes complete sense since as a rescue dog, he’s been bounced around a bit.
It was suggested that we try a couple of different things, and we settled on a plug-in diffuser, which basically is a stress reducing pheromone. Aromatherapy for dogs.
Frankly, I could do with a few of these scattered around the house for ME. To deal with my own issues of excessive whining, destructive chewing, trembling, and hiding.
While we were perusing our options, and mentally adding up how much this dog is costing us, I spotted this amazing product.
Seriously. Just how does this work? Like, on a walk with your dog and he has his morning constitutional on the sidewalk, do you whip out a bottle of this stuff and apply a few drops? I’m guessing it’s not a flavor enhancer.
Or. Why don’t you just save yourself a couple of dollars and yell NO while holding the dog back with one foot as you scoop up the offending steaming hot pile with your plastic garbage bag?
I just made myself sick.
Not my problem. As I’m not in charge of the business end of our particular pet. For good reason. What with my overactive gag reflex and all.
Where was I? Oh yes, Cailey’s 10th birthday. Focus. One of her birthday present requests was a new Barbie doll. The other 60 or so in her Barbie basket are not enough. But because this will likely be the last birthday that she asks for a Barbie doll, we obliged.
And yet still, she sleeps with the one that has an arm which has been hot glued back into place.
I am already mourning the loss of dolls under the Christmas tree.
I will spend this year treasuring 10. Because at 10 she’s still my little girl who holds my hand in public and thinks nothing of surprising me with a kiss on the cheek.
Happy Birthday, my Cailey. Ten becomes you.