Posts Tagged birthdays

Doggie math: 12 is the new 72 minus NOW plus a zillion

blackboardmathFuzzy Math:

Time flies when you’re having fun.

When those big “zero-birthdays” come along, people are sometimes inclined to say things like: “30 is the new 20,” “50 is the new 30,” or “100 is the new 80.” These sentiments may diffuse, but not altogether diminish, life’s reality-checks.

Many people in their senior years say that – despite their advanced age – they don’t feel all that different from their younger years. Deep down inside, some think that growing old is what happens to other people.

As fast as time flies, it flies even faster when measured in “doggie years.” Unfortunately, “doggie years” go faster because there are fewer of them.

According to, it’s not exactly a 7:1 ratio when comparing dog years to human years. For dogs, generally speaking, 11 months is the new teenager, 6 is the new 42, and 12 is the new 72.

But if you love dogs, any way you crunch the numbers they come up far too short. As time goes by, Jazz and Spunky aren’t quite so Jazzy or Spunky.

Spunky has put on just a little weight and is just a little bit more subdued. Jasmine is heavier, too, walks with a limp and is slowed by an arthritic gait.

But both still have enough energy to do laps around the swimming pool’s border while silly humans jump in and act – from a conscientious guard dog’s perspective – exactly as though they’re drowning.

Last Sunday, after an afternoon of life-guarding and lap-running, both dogs crashed safely behind a cabinet where they could still hear what their humans were up to while catching a few winks.

After a good nap they were refreshed and ready to rejoin the pack. All in all, they’re still healthy, happy and in possession of plenty of busy doggie-years to come.

If it’s not the years in your life but the life in your years that counts, then these two have it made.

And, unlike certain humans, they live in the present-moment, blessed with the uncannily canine ability to ignore annoying little details like numbers.

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Cash or compost?

atm500hHow much is that doggie in the window?

Never mind that, how much is a $100 bill worth once it’s been “recycled” by said doggie?

I don’t mean to mention names, but Jasmine, you’ve got some ‘splainin to do …

It all started when a human in Jasmine’s extended-family pack left a large-denomination bill unattended atop his luggage while said pack-member took a dip in the pond, or, in human lingo, a shower.

When he returned to the crime scene, aka unattended luggage, aka (in doggie lingo) “fair game,” he found said high-denomination bill was, in human terms, M.I.A., missing in action, or in pop country lingo “gone like a freight train,” or, in prime-time TV lingo … “Without a Trace.”

Things that make you go, “hmmmm.”

For some time, it was a proverbial “cold case.”

But thinking humans are inclined to connect dots. And the dot-connectors amongst us deduced that:

  1. said high-denomination bill was there before said human pack-member left the room, and …
  2. said high-denomination bill was gone when human pack-member returned, and
  3. the only other residents in the house at the time of the crime were cute and innocent-in-appearance, but suspects nonetheless, canines, and furthermore that
  4. one of said canines had a known proclivity toward eating paper and
  5. was unlikely to distinguish between a) Kleenex, b) trash, and c) a high-denomination but paper nonetheless, bill.

Therefore, thinking persons deduced that the perp was, quite likely, a pup. Read the rest of this entry »

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