Happy birthday, dog. Frank is the youngest member of our family and he just turned one. Which means he has been kicking around these parts for a significant amount of time... Year one for a French Bulldog is a funny time. They are very much like jolly old people who are hard of hearing and forgetful.
Frank is a busy-body with several projects on the go at any one time. Right now he is digging three very enourmous + ingenious holes in the backyard that we refer to as toddler traps. He is just closing the door (I frickin' HOPE!) on his 12 month phase of chewing baseboards, stools, cupboards, walls, decks, bikes, doors, playhouses, garden tools, kids toys, trees, extension cords, potted plants, fashionable shoes, and last but not least - Poet, Norman, Penn and Pilot! What makes this destructive behaviour sort of sweet & endearing is the fact that he will do all of those things while looking you in the eyes. He is not ashamed of these vices. And he has no problem trotting by with your shoes in his mouth while giving you a wave.
But, seriously. He's been a good puppy. SUPER easy to potty train. Super easy. Happy. Semi-likeable. He is better than a vaccuum and cuter, too. He's kind of a mix between a baby seal, a pig, and a cat. He might be the ONLY frenchie I have ever met that doesn't snore! Oh, he's got a bit of a jumping problem but he makes up for it by being cuddly. French Bulldogs are a fun breed to have in your family and we love them.
Today we celebrate Frank - the little puppy we found in the classified ads, born two thousand miles away - but destined to help us fill the crack in our hearts.
Good dog, Frankie. Good dog.
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Today: painting, painting, painting. I need to line up some coffee + tunes so I can get my latest canvas signed. Fingers crossed for productivity.
GO!
