the little doggy that could.

It was 11 last night as we sat around watching tv. The date came up.

'It's the 13th.'

'Hmmmm.......'

'What?'

'When did we bring Merv home again?'

'September'

'What was the date?'

'I think the 13th.'

'He was 9 months.'

'So that means it's his birthday?

'One year old.'

' 7 in dog years.'

'yep'

'Quick, fashion some sort of birthday cake.'

'I know just the thing.'

'Yeah, use some salami.'

'Put some cheese curds on there.'

'Good idea Kari.'

'Don't use peanut butter.'

'Why not?'

'Peanut butter and salami and cheese?'

'But dogs love peanut butter.'

'Not Merv. Remember what happened last time?'

'Oh yeah. The rug still smells.'

'Besides, the combination is disgusting.'

'Here's some macaroni. it was left on the stove.'

'Who's is it?'

'I dont know. I said I found it on the stove.'

'...........'

'Fuck it, put it on.'

He got excited and pissed the floor. He got embarrassed and hid where we couldn't see him. He was a little hesitant. We cheered him on. He ate his salami and cheese cake.

'Happy Birthday Merv!'

'Yay Merv!'

'You said we brought him home in September right?'

'Yeah'

'But it's January.'

'So?'

'It's January.'

'Shit.'

'Yep.'

'So that means...'

'Uh huh.'

'13 months?'

'..........'

'Happy belated Birthday Merv!'