Today my big, beautiful, ball-, bone- and biscuit-obsessed black Labrador, Leo is 11. And while he’s not within drooling distance of the Guinness record, he’s my longest lived Labrador Retriever–large, lovely, laid-back Willie and fast, funny, brilliant Grover died at 10 (three weeks before 9/11) and nine, respectively.
And although Leo sees the world as a banquet, vacuums the sidewalk in NYC, today he (and Ryder, just four) will enjoy what we perceive as his favorites–the everyday bananas, vegetables, bread and cheese; a frequent treat, marrow bone; and the special occasion raw steak. It’s not that Leo necessarily prefers carpaccio, he just prefers not to wait.
Happy birthday, Schmoo, and many more.
And happy birthday to my wonderful friend Camille in L.A.