We measure time in years. By that measure my pup, Indie, turns five years old today.
It feels like only a moment ago that Laura, Mom, Dad and I drove up to northeastern Iowa on a snowy March day to bring Indie home. More on that here.
As I write this, Indie is laying next to me on her dog bed. It’s cool in here today, so she’s curled in a lanky bundle of legs and paws. Her feathered tail is wrapped around her wet, black nose. Every few minutes she’ll whimper and her paws will twitch as she peacefully dreams.
It was only a couple of short years ago that I anticipated Indie maturing and calming down enough that she’d lay calmly next to me without the need for constant supervision and attention. Now that she’s at this stage, it was something worth looking forward to.
This morning Laura gave Indie a hug and wished her a happy fifth birthday. Indie looked back with her droopy eyes and licked Laura’s face. It strikes me that we make a lot more of birthdays that dogs do. I’m almost certain that Indie doesn’t measure time in days and years, but instead I think that Indie measures time in belly rubs, pats on the head, bird hunts, car rides, games of fetch, long walks and dog treats.
As her birthday presents, this week she’ll log a few more of each into the roster of her life.