Introverted Wife

Happy Birthday Dear Essie

You Made It a Year

But You Don't Get a Beer

Despite My Threats to Sell You

And That Garden Frog You Ate

We're Glad You're Here

Now For The Love of God

Don't Misbehave.


It's my puppy's one year birthday. It's hard to believe just a year ago this:

Looked like this:

All seven of the little scallywags have grown into their own personalities, maddening psychoses and varying level's of energy (apparently we were "lucky" enough to get the Tesla coil of the group).

But who wants to hear about how the dogs can drive you crazy with their constant need for ball, someone to snuggle with on the couch or the new pavlovian responses she's picked up where the sound of me closing my laptop equals jump up and run off cause Mom has to play with me now.

Not when you can see cute pictures of teeny tiny puppies.

Here's the litter at just one day old:

And then at five days:

In just a month they changed this much:

We got to see the whole litter one last time when we babysat for a weekend.

Happy Birthday all you adorable scamps who aren't so little or, hopefully, quite so rambunctious anymore.