Happy Birthday To ...

That's right. Mr. T turned 8 years old today. And as has become tradition in my sad, single woman life, I bought the damn dog a birthday cake. That's right, I did. I am not ashamed. That's *totally* not why I cry into my pillow at night!

Anyway, Big T is lucky he got anything at all, considering the state I am in. See on the weekend, Heather and me decided to drive out to Langley and climb aboard a couple of these:

Now, I have been riding all my life, but the older I get the less frequently I go, because it's expensive and other stuff like that. So it's been a couple of years since I last got on a horse, and I'm a little out of, err, shape. Horse shape I mean - I'm pretty in shape otherwise; I run three times a week and I cycle every day (*runs over, kisses Joelene*). But horse-shape is different. My spinal column is definitely not in horse-shape.

Anyway, here is Heather on a horse, since I took the photo and said "I'm putting this on my blog!"

And so it comes to pass.

Okay, but this blog is not about riding horses. Long story short - horseback riding hurt like a mother, I ran for an hour the next morning and today I am practically incapacitated because my neck/back is KILLING me. We almost didn't get to do the Birthday Dog Beach trip because I'm all hunched over like a 90 year old man. (Actually, I shuffled past an elderly Asian gentleman today who was basically wearing the same outfit as me, right down to the hat. We could have been twins, except he appears to be in better condition - he was downright jaunty, comparatively). Jason would call this further proof that Riding Animals Is Bad. Shut up Jason.

But it's Tweed's birthday, so off to the beach we went.

Does anyone else hear Krusty The Clown's laugh in their head when they see pictures like this?

I made the mistake of telling Tweed before we went that there would be cake afterward. And he was pretty preoccupied with the idea of cake.

He wasn't the only one.

After some frolicking at the beach, we went to the Doggie Cake Store, also known as Three Dog Bakery, where Tweed was captivated by the choices.

We picked up our cake and continued home, so I could torture the dogs a little bit.

Oh hi Tweed, is it your day for cake?

"ohmygod...someone's looking at my cake."

A wee taste test:

And then individual nomnomnoming pictures. These aren't very good for 3 reasons: 1) it really hurt my neck to hold the camera with one hand and the cake in the other and 2) my hands were covered in cake icing and I couldn't change the camera settings and 3) I was giggling like an idiot, and that causes camera shake. Whatever. I am easily amused!

NOMNOMNOM!


ha ha! And then the leftover Big Piece also went to Tweed. He reports that it was somewhat difficult to eat.

That still does not explain what he's doing with his tongue though.

So yeah ... me and this crazy dog ...

... have been together for almost 8 years now. He's a PITA, is definitely autistic, he bites Mr. Woo, like, every single day ... but he's also a funny little character who tries real hard to be the dog he thinks I want him to be.

Happy Birthday, Tweird.