Mom says: "Gracie-girl you're getting old."
Her and Dad took me for a walk to a place called Cumberland canal yesterday. It was the highlight of my day week year! There were mountains to climb and valleys to trample and to discover. A fresh warm breeze filled my snout with the most wonderful smells.
And even though on the way down (in the Buick) I got stuck between the front and back seats because I discovered I can't jump around quite like I used to, I weathered that walk like a real pup adolescent dog kind of-athletic cockapoo.
Mom feels sad that I'm getting older. I know, because she is always burying her face into my curly ear and whispering things like, "I love you, Gracie girl" and "My poor baby's getting older."
Sometimes she or dad will invite me to play and it's a lot easier to hide under the table with my toy after I retrieve it than to try to wrestle them for it.
Often my legs shake uncontrollably. I don't even know why. I have trouble jumping on the bed sometimes. Dad is going to build me a ramp, he says. I tell him... "I thought I wasn't allowed on the bed??" BOL! Yea, right. That was back when people ruled. Now, cockapoos rule.
Mom, this is embarrassing. Don't show my friends the video of my shaking legs from yesterday!!!
Oh well. Whatever.
Hey, I still got some spunk left in me and even though I'm getting lots of lumps and bumps and arthritis and such... I am still energetic, enthusiastic, and full of life. Right after this nap....
