The Winter of Her Life

If the size and abundance of acorns is an indicator of coming weather, we're in for a U.P.-sized winter in South Carolina. Blanche, my little dog, has taken to bringing exceptionally large acorns in and hiding them in all her most secret hiding places.  Unfortunately, her hiding places are usually in the middle of the hall where I'm likely to step on them barefooted.  She has a bit of a warped sense of humor.  I don't know where she gets it.

She's about to celebrate her birthday.  Actually, it will be her adoption day November 1.  The shelter lady told me she was probably around 7 when I brought her home.  Blanche's doctor says she's a bit older. Blanche and I agree that age is just a number and neither one of us is any good at math.  Especially with the dog-year conversion and all that. . . . who's to say how many candles we should put on her cake. 

Blanche is dieting lately.  She eats mostly dry health food. Before dinner she still likes an appetizer of soft food wrapped around her Prevacid, which keeps her tummy happy.  She also likes a bit of dessert, in the form of a T-R-E-A-T.   She's getting just a bit less of everything recently. 

Blanche is very concerned about her curves. It's not gone unnoticed by the male dog across the street, either.  He goes bananas whenever he sees Blanche.  She doesn't want to be known as a cougar flirt, and she really doesn't try to lead him on.   He's young and impetuous and just naturally intrigued with Blanche's outgoing personality, shiny coat and rhinestone collar.  And, of course, her joie de vivre shows in her hobbies - gardening and acorn collecting.

A year ago, Blanche was an old homeless girl on death row through no fault of her own.  Now she's a stylin' lady of a certain age with lots of bling. She doesn't follow trends, she sets them.  Her days are full of meaning and love.  Blanche always says, "What doesn't kill you outright, makes you stronger." So bring on the winter.  Blanche and I can handle it, whatever it holds.