Birthdays

This week marks the one-year anniversary of Tiki's adoption. He refused to pose nicely with his hat on his actual "birthday,"

because the hat was so delectably chewable, so I waited until he was asleep in the sun and tricked him:

Awwwwwww.

He's a good boy most of the time, and that more than makes up for times when he's naughty. Most of his naughtiness is shamefully cute anyway, but don't tell him because we don't want to encourage it. Everywhere we go, everyone remarks on what a sweetie he is. Even the vet tech, who sees who knows how many cute doggies every day, gives him a little cuddle and calls him a big bundle of cuteness. And so he is.

At Christmas time, The Boys and I visited the old folks in the south, and The Man made a side trip to see his people. We were out in the garden when The Man came back. Tiki saw and heard the Volvo drive up, and he ran to the gate. Was it? IT WAS! THE MAN WAS BACK! HOORAY! He barked and barked. Here I am! Here I am! One of The Man's unfortunate tendencies is cluelessness, so it took him a good 5-10 minutes (despite my extraordinary efforts) to make it out back. Tiki kept a vigil the entire time:

AWWWWWWWWWW!

He is so friendly that we wonder sometimes whether he would be happy living with any family that treated him nicely. I consider that photo--Tiki waiting for The Man, whom he has barely glimpsed through the woods from 50-100 yards away--to be proof that he loves us.

We love him too.