I write and publish birthday letters for the kids. Yes, this includes Deefer Dog. You can read Deefer’s 9th birthday letter here. And here are Oliver’s, Annabel’s, and Theodore’s recent letters.
The day we were leaving Los Angeles was the first time you ran away.
We had just finished stuffing 5 years’ worth of our lives into the Civic when we caught a glimpse of your butt caught beneath the gate. Then you were gone.
A heart-racing, sweaty 15 minutes later, we found you in a carport on Jasmine Ave. You were sitting, waiting. You were smiling.
The next time 4 years later. It was our first day moving into the house at 1 Cypress in Albany. I don’t remember what happened. I took you off the leash. You were there. Then you weren’t. We stalked through the pines, across manicured lawns and kiddie pools half-filled. You were smiling when we found you, again.
You did it again this summer, the day before we dropped you off at the sitters so we could go to Ireland for the summer.
It’s like you know change is coming. And you need another sip of adventure before it happens. One more last show of rebellion, one final solo amble.
In the last 10 years, your teeth have gone from good to atrocious. The heart murmur (which I thought was a joke at first – how do dogs get heart murmurs?) has progressed to a grade 3, meaning it’s easily heard with a stethoscope. Your patience has thinned to filament width, inversely proportional to the number of humans we call your siblings.
But I love that you still have your sense of adventure. I love that you still wander.
And that you’re always ready to come home.
Happy 10th birthday, my best bud.
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