So okay hear me out: a one-year-old dog is about similar to a twelve year old kid: almost finished getting taller, not finished filling out, physically able to do most things an adult can but sooooo not ready to actually be an adult. So it just makes sense to me that a one-year-old dog should get twelve birthdays, and that equals one a month, and so Finley, who was born seven months ago today, is having a birthday today, and this is a hill that I will die on.
(Sorry, next week I’ll have a cat for you on caturday but this was important.)
