HAPPY BIRTHDAY EMERSON!

Emerson,
Happy third birthday to the only puppy I've ever owned. I remeber the day the boy and I picked you up. There were two litters, so we had a bunch to choose from. Really, I wanted the girl who pounced around after the boys. Luckily for us, she was taken and we went with our number two choice--the multi-colored one with all the energy. We knew we had made a good decision on the ride home as, wrapped in the blanket that used to be mine but you have claimed as your own, you farted. The boy and I blamed each other and then we looked at our new bundle of joy. I'm pretty sure you were smiling a little.
I remember that first week with you. You peed on EVERYTHING! More than once I told the boy he needed to bring you back or dump you on the side of the road. At that point I didn't care.
But it got better. You'd kiss my cheek and all would be forgiven. And you didn't bark a lot. That's cool. Remember when you ran away and I lost you for about twenty minutes? At that moment I knew the fear that comes along with being a parent. And then I found you and spanked the hell out of you.
The last year has brought a lot of firsts--the first time I took you swimming, the first time you starred in a parade float, and all those others. And hopefully the next year will be full of more firsts, like the first time you become a daddy (that is, if Chloe will let you). So congratulations, buddy, on turning the big 0-3.