Bisou's Birthday

Am I turning into the kind of person who gives birthday parties for her dog?

It appears that I am.  This may be either a sign of my mental deterioration, or the result of Bisou's hypnotic charm and personality.

Here they are, Bisou and her panting family with their breeder, Alix http://halflingdogboarding.com/ to whom I'll be eternally grateful for helping create this intense, adorable, fearless, cuddly paradox of a dog:

The second tongue from the left belongs to Bisou's brother, who is distinguishing himself in the agility ring.  The rest of the black-and-tans are, and I can't tell them apart unless they are running around and being themselves, Bisou's mother, Fling;  her littermate, Luna;  and Bisou's soul-half-sister Atti (for "attitude").

The brother's owner--I believe the PC term these days is "guardian"--brought gift bags with treats and toys.  Fling rolled Bisou onto her back with an admonitory growl.  Bisou and her brother disappeared momentarily for their usual incestuous break.   And while the five dogs milled underfoot we guardians congratulated ourselves and drank home-made sangria, which put us right back in the 1970s, where we belong.

I haven't made a lot of impulsive decisions in my life.  One was moving to Vermont.  The other was getting Bisou, a small splash of red between the black and tan of our two German Shepherds.  Both impulses, the move to this green state and the little red dog, were deemed crazy by cooler heads including, at times, my own.  But unlike some other, more rationally examined decisions, I have never regretted these.

So I'm o.k. with becoming a lady who gives birthday parties for her dog.  At least I didn't put a party hat on her.