One special day in the middle of the dog days of Summer has been chosen just for us to celebrate our birthdays. It's called Dogust 1st (actually it's August 1st) - a day for humans to honor and make a fuss over their rescue or shelter pups.
Every year on this day, my humans try to make a best guestimate of my age and my brother, Alvin's age too. They have had to rely on the veterinarian's expertise, as well as the opinions of the folks who originally rescued us.
They're calling me "a senior" since I've been in NJ since the Spring of 2010 and the vet in West Virginia thought I was about a year old when he gave me my pre-transport vaccinations. I probably looked really young because I was so skinny after just having my puppies. Now our New Jersey vet thinks I was probably just a bit older.
Alvin arrived at our house in July of 2014 in bad shape, then came down with the dreaded disease, Parvo, just a few days later. The vet who saved his life thought he was at least 2 years old. Once Alvin gained back his health and strength, we could see that he was just a pup less than a year old!
So then, how old are we? I hear our humans say that I'm "9-ish" and that Alvin is "3-ish". During our party last evening, I asked Alvin what he thought. We both agreed that we don't really care about the numbers. But we sure are happy that we were rescued and that our time here - no matter how long - has made us feel safe and so very loved.
Enjoy the pics from our celebration.