I love Frisbee! It's really difficult not to be able to chase and catch them. Running and jumping like that is bad for my leg. Mom and Dad understand how sad I am so they still give me Frisbees to gnaw on. They're good parents. It's not the same but I get a lot of mileage out of one Frisbee. The thing is, Mom put this one in the trash and it's my favorite. Dad got it out for me but now I'm in trouble with Mom. She thinks Dad is covering for me. He's not! He really did give it to me. Mom says I'm holding the evidence. She'll get over it. She did take my picture and that means it's really okay. And she let me keep it. Mom lets me get away with a lot of things just because I'm Deuce. It's good to be me!
Mom says today is my birthday! I'm TWO! I can't read the calendar but I'm sure Mom is correct. She has my birth certificate and keeps track everything in a notebook. Two doesn't feel any different from one and a bunch of days. But then there was breakfast. I love breakfast on my birthday! Pancakes! Bacon! Eggs! Sausage! Dad fixed us what he called a "farmhouse" breakfast because it was my birthday. (Mom said good - she won't have to cook today.) Anyway, I had a whole pancake with butter, two pieces of crispy bacon, a sausage link, and a whole egg! I love breakfast! Breakfast is the best! Mom says I can't have anything but dog food for at least a week now. I'd rather celebrate my birthday EVERY day! I hate to admit it, but I guess Mom is right. It's okay to splurge on my birthday but then I have to be mindful I get the right protein for a dog. Mom says it's too cold outside to take me for a long walk so she and Dad plan to play ball and Frisbee a lot today. That's a good birthday present, too. I'll chase the ball until my paws get cold. And speaking of paws, mine is much, much better. It doesn't seem to hurt at all now and I've been doing some running on it. Being two means I really am all grown up. I'm who I'm always going to be now. Mom says I'm independent, loving, energetic, friendly, a good observer, entertaining, obedient, and intelligent. That's a lot of words to describe little ol' me. I can sum it up in two words. I'm Deuce!
I love, love, love to play Frisbee. The thing is, I'm a little hard on the equipment. Mom gets me a supply of perfect flying discs, and I just can't help myself - I ruin them. I have quite the collection if I must say so myself. Mom took a before and after photo to show it off for me. It's not like I mean to do it. It's just they make a really cool snapping noise when I bend them. I have to work really hard to get it to happen, too. Like really hard. Besides, I only do it when... well, I'd better not blame Mom and Dad for making bad throws. They might get angry and not play with me. But I only chew the Frisbee when they make a bad throw. It's frustrating! I need to catch the Frisbee before it stops moving! Catching it in the air is best, of course, but when it rolls on its edge works, too. As long as I get to it before it stops. That's the important thing. When it stops it ruins the fun and I get pissy...er... frustrated. So I try to teach it a lesson. Frisbees are stupid things. Mom and Dad clean the old Frisbees and throw them until they just won't fly. Mom says she might try putting them in a slightly warm oven to see if she can get them to flatten out again. It sounds to me like she doesn't have a lot of hope that will work. She looks at me and says it's a good thing they only cost a dollar....
It's time to face the music. I'm not as young as I used to be. I used to bounce when I landed on my butt. Not any longer... That's me hiding under Mom's desk. Well, I'm half under it. Mom gave me a baby aspirin a little bit ago and now I feel soooo much better. We went outside to play ball - I love balls! - and I must have slipped on the snow. My right hind leg hurts. Mom and Dad felt it all over from my spine to my toes. It feels good when Mom massages my toes. She ran her hands over all my joints, even my tail. Nothing hurt until she got to the really meaty muscle in my haunch that gives me all the thrust for speed. Then I started to shake and I put my mouth on Mom's hand. That's how Mom knew she'd hit the spot that hurts. I didn't bite. I know better than to ever bite Mom and Mom knows not to jerk away and scrape her fingers on my teeth. I don't remember what I did to maybe pull a muscle. I was running and playing on the snowy ground so it must have happened when I jumped and came down kinda hard. Mom and I came inside and when I tried to sit, it hurt. So Mom said I could lie on the loveseat with her for a little while and maybe I'd feel better. That's when Mom gave me the baby aspirin. It worked and I decided to go back to the office with Mom. I sure hope I can get off the floor on my own when it's time for bed. I'm almost one year old. It'll be embarrassing if Mom has to help me get up like I'm a little guy. I'll never live it down.
I've mentioned a few times how Mom is a little crazy. She still has one of my baby fangs, you know. Last night I knew something was up with her. She kept looking out the windows - all of them. It got so bad I jumped up on the loveseat and took a snooze on her spot and she didn't say a word about it. About seven o'clock, she yelled for me. She called me "Deucie-baby" so I jumped off the sofa and ran to her. I love it when she calls me that. I thought we were going to bed early - I love sleeping on the bed - but she opened the back door instead. "It's snowing, Deucie," she said, all excited. I went out on the patio with her and sure enough, these little white flakes were falling from the sky. It was weird! "Wait until tomorrow morning. You'll like snowballs," she said. Well, yeah. If it's a ball, I'm gonna like it! Except for the one on New Year's Eve. Can't play with that one. What a dud. First thing this morning nine deer went through the front yard. I could really see them against the snow. I started to think snow is a good thing. As soon as we (I see better than Mom in the dark) could see outside, we went to check out the snow. Mom said we got off easy with the snow - only about two inches. She grabbed a handful of snow off her car and made a snowball. She threw it and it disappeared! How'd she do that? Then she made a snowball and tossed it for me to catch. Snow is really cold. We played Frisbee for a couple of throws and then Mom said her feet were cold. Her feet? What about my paws? They were really cold, too! Snow seems like a good thing to me. If two inches is fun, I bet a foot is even better. I'm going to listen to Mom and Dad real close the next time they mention snow. Maybe next time I can figure out how snowballs disappear when they hit the ground.
I overheard Mom and Dad talking about my favorite Frisbee. Apparently, all the work I've done to perfect the edges for my teeth has been a bad thing. Putting fang slots around it has made it fly crooked. It doesn't bother me at all that it doesn't fly straight. It still flies. I can still catch it in the air. I like the pink Frisbee. I mean, guy wolfs can like pink, right? Besides, the blue one doesn't fly as far. It goes out and then falls. It doesn't float like the pink one, which is really disappointing to me. Mom says next time she goes to the pet store she'll get me a bunch of new Frisbees, even pink if they have it. I'm worried they won't be the same as my first pink Frisbee. I hope Mom keeps it for me.
Mom was going over the pictures she took of me and Dad playing Frisbee. She likes this one because it shows I'm settling down. She says she can see who I'm going to be when I leave being a puppy behind. Mom thinks I'm quite handsome. I'm Deuce! I'm always going to be Mom's pup.
I had so much fun this morning! Mom set up the tunnel for me. It was great! I chased the ball through the tunnel, jumped over the tunnel to chase the Frisbee, and ran and ran and ran until I was really panting! Once that happened, Mom made me stop and go inside. And since she takes good care of me, she turned the air conditioner on so I could lie over my vent and cool off good. Mom took a video, too. She said it's hard to juggle the ball, the dog, and her cell phone but I think she didn't do too bad. It's just for fun, you know. I wouldn't want it any other way. After I rest for a little while, Mom says we can go down to the creek and then play tunnel a little more. I'd really like that!
I love to play Frisbee! I can even catch it every now and then. I'm getting better at protecting my nose, too. It stings when I miss and hit my nose. Dad says I need practice. Another thing I need to practice is giving the Frisbee back to Dad so he can throw it again. I get so excited I forget! It's mine! Mine! Mine! I know Dad's right, and I know I can't chase it if he can't throw it. I'll get better and better and then Mom can get a video. I'm only nine months old. I've already come a long way! Dad knows when I've played enough for one session. He told me to take the Frisbee to Mom, and then she took my picture. Then I dropped the Frisbee between the porch steps and it's still there. Mom says I have to figure out how to get it all by myself. I hope she changes her mind and gets it for me, but Mom's pretty tough about my toys. Guess I'd better ask her, politely of course, how to get it out. Then I'll be more careful. I always am after I've "lost" a toy. After all, they are MINE.
I love Frisbee! It's really difficult not to be able to chase and catch them. Running and jumping like that is bad for my leg. Mom and Dad understand how sad I am so they still give me Frisbees to gnaw on. They're good parents. It's not the same but I get a lot of mileage out of one Frisbee. 
