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Tuesday, August 5, 2014

ELEVEN

The quote is "There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics"; I'm going to say there's even damned statistics.  Leo has made it to eleven years old, which is, statistically, improbable.  But here he is, and I'm happy for it.

He's been doing well - a little slower, perhaps.  He's definitely lazier. But he's been great lately - his personality is so mellow, he's like an elder statesman.  Sometimes, yes, he's a grumpy old man, but he's doing well.
Yep, that's a steak with candles on it. 

We've taken to going out late at night for his walks, and he's been really in to going to the dog park. It's been nice - we've been able to go there late at night (dear NYPD: yes, before the park closes at 1AM) and have it to ourselves.  Funny enough, he goes in there and just wants to wander - usually, nothing major - but that's what he does. And Leo gets to do what Leo wants.  Because when you've gotten to 11, when 9 was questionable and 10 was a stretch, well, you deserve it.

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