This little punk is 11 years old today. It feels kind of crazy to think about that - we brought her into the fam when she was the size of a beer can, and 11 years later she’s the size of a forty!
Seriously though, she’s probably one of the greatest things that ever happened to our family. She’s added some comfort and some color (copper, hence the name Penny), and she’s put in a huge effort to bring us all together more. Whether we were living on 216th St. SE, Burnside or now Quail Ridge, she’s always been dedicated to giving each of us something to bitch about.
11 years old and she’s still crackin’. She barks (yet not as much as she used to), she growls excessively, she wines occasionally, she begs like crazy for chicken and steak, she poops all over the yard, she plays until she gets hurt, and she sleeps until you kick her off the couch or bed. She’s the best damn dog I’ve ever had, and the most loyal - mostly because even when I’m as far away as New York I know that she is wreaking havoc on my little sister at all times. In fact, I guarantee you that Penny has already ransacked Cassie’s bedroom today and spread trash everywhere. That would be her idea of a happy birthday.
Atta girl, Penny. Atta girl.
