I love birthdays, but other people's rather than my own. You often get to celebrate and eat good food and wine. you get to tease someone with clues and hints about their present all the while insisting that it cannot, under any circumstances, not even imminent peril, be opened until the day. Then you get to see them open it and if you've done a good job you'll see their face light up.
As you can probably guess, I just love the pouches birthdays and so do they. Barry has no idea what the fuss is all about but he sure does love the meat cupcakes and new toys that all get bestowed on one magical day!
But that's all by the by. This year Barry was insistent on helping me wrap the presents. I tried many things, got Hubby to call him and offered him treats. I threw balls out of the room only for them to be returned and dropped into my lap or on the presents in no time at all - this may not sound surprising but dear Barry has never quite grasped the idea of 'fetch' whilst out on walks so I'm sure he knows what he's up to when he manages in these situations!
Barry ignored my threats one too many times, presumably thinking them idle... or possibly just because he's a dog and unable to differentiate my human blatherings. Anyway, to cut a long story short, he ended up being wrapped and presented to Hubby with his presents. Much to Barry's disapproval. And my delight...