My Dad helps me onto the bed at night.  I know the routine….brush teeth, go for the last walk of the day, get my meds, My Dad reaches into the cookie box, turns off the kitchen light, and we head to the bedroom.  “piggies up”  I put my front feet on the bed and My Dad lifts me gently under the tummy – and I am in bed for the night!  In the morning, My Dad brushes his teeth, makes coffee, does some other stuff that might be personal, gets dressed and then takes me in both arms and (very) gently places me on the floor.  My Dad knows my hips are bad…no more Frisbee for me.

My Dad was up early this morning trying to serve some miscreants.  He needed a nap around 3:00 this afternoon.  After the nap, My Dad says let’s go for a walk…..AND…drum roll…..I jump down from the bed all by myself!


Here is a picture of me working…The Parents of Murdered Children (POMC) National Convention.  A lot of people were crying when they were petting me…everyone told me I did a great job.  I was on assignment with THE EXTRA MILE MINISTRIES.  Yes, My Dad was with me, too.

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