Dear Harlow,
I just wanted to wish you a very happy birthday today.
Two years old already...
Although as you often like to remind me, you're actually fourteen.
I just can't believe it.
It seems like only yesterday I picked you up from that farm in Kansas
and brought you back to live with Chris and I in Topuka.
On the way home I wrapped you in a little beach towel
just in case you had an "accident."
It was a good thing too, because you did pee a little.
And I giggled.
And then you shit too, and I stopped giggling.
But it wasn't until you vomited when I actually considered turning around.
But I didn't. And that was the best decision I ever made.
Chris didn't know I was bringing you home.
And sometimes I feel selfish for how much I relish that moment of remembering
him first walking inside and laying eyes on you,
"No way! A dog? Is that a dog? You got a dog?"
Or how about the time you got a yeast infection in your ear?
And then you had UTI's every other week for about six months?
I started to get nervous I had adopted a slutty 40 year old woman,
rather than a sweet little puppy.
But you were fine.
Until you got another ear infection.
And then you got kennel cough.
And pink eye.
And we had to pay to cut off your male bits (still sorry about that one. or I should say two.)
And then there was that battle wound from the dog park.
But what's a few thousand dollars worth of vet bills? Right Har?
It was all totally worth it.
You've just grown into such a handsome young man.
So dapper and mature looking.
You're no longer the little pup who likes to try to sit across my shoulders on car rides.
Which is probably a good thing, because that got to be pretty dangerous.
Okay well, I'm starting to ramble and I know how you hate that.
Most times you actually bitch-slap me with your paw when I carry on too long so I'll stop.
Let's go for another stroll around the neighborhood in your new Halloween costume.
I know you're so excited it came in the mail today.
"It's the cruelest joke of them all, that man's best friend,
doesn't live nearly as long as man."
Except for you, Har.
I know you're gonna live until at least 100.
I just wanted to wish you a very happy birthday today.
Two years old already...
Although as you often like to remind me, you're actually fourteen.
I just can't believe it.
It seems like only yesterday I picked you up from that farm in Kansas
and brought you back to live with Chris and I in Topuka.
On the way home I wrapped you in a little beach towel
just in case you had an "accident."
And I giggled.
And then you shit too, and I stopped giggling.
But it wasn't until you vomited when I actually considered turning around.
But I didn't. And that was the best decision I ever made.
Chris didn't know I was bringing you home.
And sometimes I feel selfish for how much I relish that moment of remembering
him first walking inside and laying eyes on you,
"No way! A dog? Is that a dog? You got a dog?"
We hadn't been living together too long at that point.
And you were such a nice addition.
Although I would spend the next few months picking up pee all over,
{some of it was even from you, little Harlow}
those first weeks with you were so exciting. and exhausting.
Remember how all of the Hispanic neighbor kids would come over every day and ask,
"Can Carlos come out and play? Can we pet Carlo?"
Oh, how they loved you.
I bet they're all still playing King of the Dumpster back at that apartment complex.
You remember that complex, right Harlow?
It was the one you got us evicted from.
They gave us fourteen days to leave. And a $980 bill to pay.
Good memories.
Or how about the time you got a yeast infection in your ear?
And then you had UTI's every other week for about six months?
I started to get nervous I had adopted a slutty 40 year old woman,
rather than a sweet little puppy.
But you were fine.
Until you got another ear infection.
And then you got kennel cough.
And pink eye.
And we had to pay to cut off your male bits (still sorry about that one. or I should say two.)
And then there was that battle wound from the dog park.
But what's a few thousand dollars worth of vet bills? Right Har?
It was all totally worth it.
You've just grown into such a handsome young man.
So dapper and mature looking.
You're no longer the little pup who likes to try to sit across my shoulders on car rides.
Which is probably a good thing, because that got to be pretty dangerous.
Okay well, I'm starting to ramble and I know how you hate that.
Most times you actually bitch-slap me with your paw when I carry on too long so I'll stop.
Let's go for another stroll around the neighborhood in your new Halloween costume.
I know you're so excited it came in the mail today.
Anyway,
I just wanted to say happy birthday, Harlow!
"It's the cruelest joke of them all, that man's best friend,
doesn't live nearly as long as man."
Except for you, Har.
I know you're gonna live until at least 100.
