I can’t believe he’s already 4 years old. He still acts like a puppy in pretty much all respects. He still gets overstimulated whenever we go to my parents’ house. He still plays with toys. He’s still overcome with delight whenever we come home. He is the sweetest little doggie.
Both of the dogs we had growing up were rescued basset hounds, so we never knew when they were born. Colin was the very first puppy for me, so I suppose he’ll always be a little bit special.
His gifts include a nice walk (probably to the beach so we can play with the beloved pink ball) and one of these disgusting cakes we make him. This is the one from his first birthday.
I believe it was two layers of toast, a peanut butter filling, and the whole thing was frosted with liver pate. His name was written with icing made from boullion and flour.
He loved it.
He kept an eye on us as he wolfed it down as quickly as possible. He isn’t usually territorial about food, so he clearly adored it.
Happy Birthday, Ba!
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