Bentley's Biz: A Word from the Birthday Boy

Yep. It's my birthday today—or so they tell me (scratch scratch, yaaaawn).

The big number 3. If you're one of those humans who likes to do the dog years thing, I'm actually 21.

It's not like I'm suddenly legal to drive, or drink or whatever else you humans get so excited about 'coming of age' for, but the kids are pretty riled up like puppies chasing their tails. Birthdays do that to them.

I've been living with Carter and his family for what seems like a dog's age, but I think it's only been about a year and a half. It's been nothing but a paws-itive experience so far.

Yep, it's a good life living here with my buddy, Carter. His mom gets a bit frustrated sometimes because he's not what you'd call the tidiest eater. No frustration here...bring on the yogurt, the pudding, and whatever else I can lick off my boy's face after his meal. I'm good with cereal, rice and all the other crummy things that fall on the floor too. As long as I lie down away from the table at meal times, I'm always given the go ahead to clean up the floor after a meal. Arf!

I miss my foster 'mom' and my puppy buds that I grew up and trained with, but I'm good with where I ended up. I knew the day would come when my training would be done and I'd be sent into the real world to work.

I think I've been most helpful to my boy, Carter in places where those people in the white coats poke and prod him. Doctors—ya, that's what they're called. Carter doesn't like them very much. I don't blame him. I feel the same about the vet.

Carter gets so upset when doctors are around that sometimes his mom will tell the doctor to examine me first. Then Carter relaxes a bit. I'm good with it. Whatever I can do to help. I think he likes having me along to hug when he's anxious and unsure about what's going to happen.

When Carter's brother and sister go off to birthday parties and play dates, I keep him company. He doesn't seem to get invited to things like his brother and sister do. I know it's not quite the same but I'm happy to hang out with him whenever he needs a pal.

Bentley...a.k.a. Big B

Carter is such a great kid. He doesn't talk but that's fine with me. His actions tell me everything I need to know—that he loves me like crazy. I love him too. So on my third birthday I don't need much because my tail is a waggin' just thinking about how lucky I am to have found Carter. (Well, okay...a good belly rub would be nice. But nothing else, really).