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Because the rescue group wasn’t sure of Stanley’s birthday, but thought it was around the first of May, we made it May 1. Yesterday, he was two years old.

So, we have two things to celebrate.

Stanley has been with me for a year now. Time flies when you’re having fun, right?

Last year at this time Stanley was an extremely anxious little dog. He has mellowed somewhat, but he can still be knocked sideways by a change in his routine – such as having to go to daycare when I go to the dentist. He tolerates me taking out the garbage while he stays in the house, barking. He still doesn’t like mechanical things, like the spice grinder, the hand held vacuum, the blender, or the Roombas and always barks like mad when they’re on. He isn’t any better about strangers, but he’s become my cuddle buddy and very protective of me. He’s learned a dozen commands and a few tricks, plus he’s great at fetch and, “find your toy.” I’m most grateful for him learning NO BARK first thing in the morning – like 5:00 AM – when he goes out. He might start to fuss at something, but when he hears that command he quiets down. The neighbors don’t need to get up at five.

I’ve even gotten used to him doing his LAD routine (lick a dick) or insisting on licking me with ass lips. (He does love all parts of his body.) I have Purell wipes everywhere. 🙂

Stanley adores my son. The minute I say, “John is coming,” he’ll run to the window and stay there until John’s car appears. (I’ve learned not to say that unless I know John is only a few minutes away.) He goes ape until my son gets in the house and insists on trying to glue himself to every part of John. It’s so sweet.

There are still times when I go, “Stanley?” because I don’t understand something he’s done. All in all, however, it’s been a good year. A less traumatic year then I envisioned, frankly. We’re settling in well together. Now, if I could only talk him into getting on the treadmill or letting me brush his teeth without a fight…