Happy Birthday Percival!

It is past midnight, officially Christmas Eve. I should have announced earlier that yesterday, December 23, was Christmas Adam. Be sure to celebrate it next year. Anyway, this is an exciting day for a few reasons: 1) Christmas is tomorrow! 2) We get to open stockings tonight! 3) It's Percival's birthday!!!

Let me explain. No, it's too much; let me sum up. (If you know where that's from, you are wonderful.) Percy is my beautiful little pomeranian, and she is a Christmas Eve dog. Today she is 13 years old. She had a rough couple of months this year, getting older and all that, but she is back in top form, barking for two meals a day plus treats. She was just groomed and has a Christmas bow in her hair. I have absolutely no idea how to put a picture of her on this blog, but I will try to get Gregory to do it soon. Now, if you meet Percy, you should walk into her kitchen and yell, "PERcival!!!" The only problem is that she can't hear very well anymore, but if she sees you through her cataracts looking excited, she is certain to get excited, too.

Percy is my first dog. Our family had dogs before her, but she is the family dog who is mine. I truly believe that she is the cutest thing in the world, from her delicately pointy face to the tiny quick steps she takes with her little paws. She was born the runt of the litter on December 24, 1994. She came to live with us in July of 1995, and she has been leader of the Acosta household ever since. She has had her favourites in the family, most notably my dad. He pretended not to care about her, but he was caught playing with her several times, and she had many a tummy ache because he fed her table scraps. To my dad, Percy was simply "Dog," or sometimes "Half-dog" (she topped out at a whopping 6 pounds in her youth, but now she is down to 4 1/2). Anyway, after my father died, she began following my mother around. When Greg and I got married, we decided to leave Percy with my mother because she was already getting older and we thought she would be more comfortable in her house. Don't worry--we live five minutes away, so we see her quite often.

And so we toast to Percival--May she live at least four more years! Cheers and salud!