Happy Birthday?

Since Bosley was rescued from a horrendous puppy mill where he was malnourished, chained and held on bare concrete, we have no idea when, exactly, he was born. His foster mommy's and vet's best guess was March 1-15 of 2007. Because of that I have no idea when to wish him happy birthday. To remedy this I've given him big snuggles and shouted "Happy Birthday!" every day since the first of March. Effective? Yes. Weird? A bit...

He hit another grown spurt these past two weeks. He's been sleeping a lot, thinned out, and moves a bit slow. Since I see him every day I'm always the last one to recognize that he's grown. He slammed up against me last night, and I realized that his back now hits my belly button. Two weeks ago, it hit my hips. Cripes! He's also up to 80 pounds of food a month.

If you factor in the bananas, oranges, apples, carrots, broccoli, spinach, and cheese, it's probably closer to 90. And yeah, he totally hearts fruits and veggies. When I'm prepping dinner, he waits until I turn my back and then snatches whatever the hell he wants right off the cutting board. Dave got him hooked on oranges and bananas. It's like crack to him. If he hears that snapping sound bananas make when you start to peel them, he flies into the kitchen. If he smells oranges, same deal. I've had to start taking his munching into account when I draw up my grocery lists, lol.

Right now the drooling behemoth is sleeping across my calves. I lost feeling in them half an hour ago. There's no moving him so I'm pinned here until His Majesty decides to wake. At least I've got my laptop with me. Oh, and the remote, cell phone, and a glass of tea within arm's reach. Heaven help me if I have to potty...