Party at Ivy's House

  
     Lots of exciting things coming up: for example, Ivy's first birthday is a week from tomorrow.  I already know what I'm going to wear (my slinky black dress and my beloved John Fluevog black heels).  I'm going to make a stinky carnivorous treat for the two dogs, and a four-layer lemon cake for the four humans.  A certain cherished member of my family who is twelve years old and whose name begins with B no longer likes chocolate, so I am branching out in my dessert-making. (If you own stock in Ghiradelli, sell now!)  I'm going to waste tons of time this week making a slideshow of my year's worth of photos of Ivy, and we're going to generally toast the fabulousness of our girl.  She may not know why we're celebrating, but she's always, always up for some fun.

     The other much-anticipated event in our lives is this Thursday, when the temperature is going to plummet all the way down to a high of ninety-five.  We are super-excited about this arctic blast, because ninety-five is a full fifteen degrees below the highs we've been having.  Last night at the 110-degree baseball practice, that's all we talked about: Thursday, Thursday, wonderful Thursday.  Only two more baseball practices between now and then. Only two more dinners to cook in my hot kitchen.  Only a day and a half more of listening to my dogs pant while they sit still and do nothing.  I guess they might still pant, but it won't be as bad.  Can't wait.
     Back to Ivy's birthday!  Why celebrate a dog's birthday, especially when every day is a big party as far as she's concerned?  Because she and I have worked hard the last year to get her to where she is now.  Because she has brought me some new and wonderful friendships.  Because she helps me see the world as happier, more interesting and more fragrant than I ever thought it was.  Because after recently watching my friends Michelle and Rachel suffer the deaths of their dogs Violet and Ethan, I am more grateful than ever for each moment I have with Ivy.  Because she has survived this brutal summer with me, and has done so with an Aussie smile on her face.   Come on, Thursday; maybe we'll start the party then.