It's my birthday! I'm five!

Today is my birthday! I'm five years old! 

Is that old? Mom says "not really." What the squeaky-toy does that mean? Am I old or not?

I don't feel old. I feel pretty good. I felt a lot older when I hurt my cruciate tendon, but Mom got the right medicines for me and everything is good to go as long as I don't overdo it. Mom is pretty careful to make sure I don't. 

But come to think of it, sleeping on the big bed does feel better than sleeping on the floor. I don't think I've always felt that way. I used to think I had to be on the floor at Mom's feet when she works in her office, but I can see her just fine from the big bed. So it makes sense to sleep on the soft bed, right? 

Mom and Dad wanted a video of me to help them remember me at age five. Humans must really have trouble remembering as they get older. Will I get like that? I'd hate to forget how to play ball, or how to behave. And what if I forget how to listen to Dad? He needs me, you know. My job is to look out for him when Mom's not home. 

Maybe this being five isn't all it's cracked up to be. I guess I'll have to do like Mom says and take it one day at a time. Until then, maybe Dad will take me out and we can play ball again! That would be a swell birthday present!