Dogs don't get birthday cake

Gert and I were cuddling on the couch before school, and Finnegan wandered into the room. He came over and set his furry little dog chin right on my knee.

"How's things, Bud?" I asked him.

"Rough," he said.

I skritched his ears sympathetically.

My little baby Gert is six today! She's such a smart and sweet and funny little human. No wonder Finnegan is a little sad to see her growing up.