It’s December, and that can mean a few things, it is Christmas and Boxing Day and New Years.
But more importantly……. it’s FLETCHER’S FIRST BIRTHDAY!
His birthday, not to be confused with the day I took him home, is around the 12th of December. Or at least that’s what I have estimated it to be, he came home on the 1st February and he was 8 weeks old. Being the mathematical genius that I am this seems like a reasonable estimation. It only seems like last week that I picked Fletcher up to take him home, he was the very last puppy of his litter to be adopted and whilst I spent a lot of time beforehand spewing bullshit as to wanting a puppy that displayed this and that sort of behaviour I fell absolutely in love with his tiny little head and said ‘YES THIS TINY SAUSAGE PUP SHALL BE MINE!’ Ironically not something I would say is a requirement for inviting other males into my life.
So of course, we had a birthday party on the closest weekend to this date. I mean what self respecting puppy/dog owner in this day and age does not celebrate a dog birthday? Especially the first one, and especially someone who has a Twitter, Instagram, and Blog dedicated to their dog. Like duhhh.
I am not the only one in the family who got excited about celebrating Fletcher’s birthday, so I am going to that that as actual clarification that I am not a loser and I don’t need to ‘get a life’ or any of the other things that ‘non-dog people’ say. In fact, if you are a ‘non-dog person’ it means that I can’t and won’t trust you. And, I offer no apologies or explanations for this. If you are one of these people then take a long hard look at yourself in the mirror, alternatively if you know someone who dislikes dogs and you are friends with them then you really need to re-evaluate your relationships.
Anyway, so Fletchers ‘Aunty’ bought him a doggy birthday cake, and I began to tell my family that I was having a dog birthday party whilst I was still away with work. Everyone knew how much I was missing him and they were all like ‘Aww that sounds so nice yeah we can all go!’, I suppose it was their way of placating me and being all like ‘aw how cute that she is missing her dog so much’. My nan of course said ‘Don’t be so fucking stupid are you mad? A birthday party for a dog what is wrong with you?’. To be fair I didn’t think she would go for it but thought I’d ought to ask.
I obviously raided Pets-at-Home for toys and snacks. And, since I am such a ‘dog food/snack snob’ I always buy the healthiest most natural looking treats which often equates to spending a small fucking fortune. And a small fortune I did spend, I even bought him dog toothpaste, on a normal day he wouldn’t appreciate having toothpaste so God only knows why I thought he would appreciate it as a treat for his birthday. Imagine that, opening gifts on your birthday only to find your old Mum has wrapped up a tube of Colgate and you have to look grateful for it. Oh! And another thing! I refuse to pay more than £2-£3 for my own toothpaste, so can someone please explain to me why I paid near £8 for fucking dog toothpaste!
Armed with the cake and more toys and treats and toothpaste than a dog could use or eat in one day we were ready to parrrrtayyyyy. And, by party I mean sit in the living room with cake and a coffee and take pics of Fletcher whilst he desperately fights us to get to his own cake.
Fletcher, me and two others attended his banging, birthday extravaganza and then some late comers who didn’t originally take my dog party ideas seriously. They all thought I was joking and took the same attitude as my nan and laughed in my face and called me a lunatic. Probably just upset that I’m never going to plan a birthday party for any of their miserable arses. So, I told them they were miserable and we didnt need them at the party because they were boring anyway and when it came down to it Fletch only cared about the cake, and truly, who can blame him.
We took quite a lot of photos and Fletcher participated for the most part, however there did come a point where he got to the end of his rope and refused to keep still until he had been given some cake and his toys. We really are more similar than I first anticipated.
Fletch’s favourite part of the evening was having his very own cake. I am not sure of what the base was made out of but I do know the paw print was doggy chocolate and peanut butter. One thing I know for sure is that he absolutely LOVED it.
There we have it, Fletcher has completed one full rotation around the sun. In that time he has managed to make me laugh, make me cry, eat most of my underwear and poop and pee on the carpet more times than I care to admit.