Happy Birthday Simon! My baby is a year old, and even though I haven’t had him his whole life, I love him so much. What do I mean? Let me tell you.
My neighbors back home have a female Maltese, and their parents have a male Maltese. After an unexpected pregnancy that resulted in two puppies, they tried to sell them. Because my family cannot resist seeing and holding puppies, my mom and I went over to their house to see the babies. I remember holding Simon (then Snowy) and wishing he could fit into our lives. But it just didn’t line up. After his brother got sold, we kept close watch on Simon. Sadly, it seemed our neighbors didn’t care about him. While his mother stayed chained up, Simon was left to run free through our neighborhood for the first five months of his life. He would stand at the fence that divided his and our yards and stare at my parents while they did yard work. He would meet me at the car door when I’d come home from school; I had to fool him with biscuits to sneak into the house without him following me inside. Around Christmas he disappeared for a while, and we felt empty without him. We hoped he hadn’t been hit and wished he would come back. And he did, in January, when the weather was inclement.
The day I made up my mind about Simon was very, very cold. I was just getting home from a tag sale when Simon appeared at my feet. There were icicles around his mouth, nose and eyes and he had tape in his long, tangled hair. My family is guilty of coddling our dogs, and I couldn’t stand that he was left outside on such a nasty day. I scooped him up in a towel and took him inside. We sat together by the fireplace and his big brown eyes melted my heart. After a warm thirty minutes, we cut the tape out of his hair and unwillingly put him back outside. My mom wrote my neighbors a note and left it on their door.
The next day, my neighbor said we could have him. He brought him over in the evening, all shampooed and combed out; I hardly recognized the ragamuffin I fell in love with. Since then, he’s been my pal. He was wonderful to have around when our older dog passed away, and his personality even convinced my parents and sister to get his brother and sister (from a second litter).
Sometimes Simon still thinks he’s a wild man and begs to run free…and I have to remind him he’s a house dog now. He hates getting his eye boogs combed out and really hates when I dry off his paws. But I think at the end of the day when he’s in bed with us, he’s happy.
I baked him his very own birthday cake (the closest thing to people food he’s had since my dad would sneak him table scraps), and he.loves.it. I found the recipe here. He has enough to munch on all week-long!
Do you have a weak spot for dogs? Do you celebrate their birthdays like the rest of your family?