Happy (estimated) birthday to my sweet Emmett, born circa January 2006 somewhere around Tillamook, Oregon. I took him home "to foster him" on September 8, 2006, when he was eight months old. In the rescue business they call this a "foster failure."
I couldn't have failed better.
I don't know what else to say except thank you, Emmett, for being the perfect road trip buddy, polite party guest (and host), woods wanderer, and reading armrest. You changed my life. I'm so glad you're in it.
I don't blame you for not wanting to fetch. It's stupid to keep bringing something back to a person who just throws it away again.
Happy sixth, little friend. Please stick around for another dozen if you can.
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