Mojo the Monster

Rosie Meets Ratty, April 2006.
So just in case you aren't already convinced of just what an AWFUL person Mojo can be, I submit the following.

The other day I stumbled upon Rosie's AKC registration that I got from her previous owners. (Stumbled upon it because I don't care about such things.) And just this weekend the Favorite Husband and I were debating just how old she was; I remembered George died the same day as the Pope (April 2005) and I thought it was a bit after that, like early the next year. She was just under a year old when we got her; I remember that much.

Rosie's birthday, it turns out, is May 31, 2005, so she will be ELEVEN this year. Which is getting up there for a Golden, and I think pretty darned good for a sissy dog with a totally wonky heart valve--bad enough that we always half-assumed she would drop dead at any second. It's been ten years and we're STILL waiting. It's kinda stressful until you get used to it.

So I'm like, "Hey, Rosie girl, you're going to be ELEVEN YEARS OLD in a couple of months, assuming you live that long!" (Because I am a realist, if nothing else.) And I pat her on the head.

And then I spend the evening shopping for puppies on the internet.

I'm a MONSTER, I tell you...