Many Happy Returns of the Day

Today is my 5th birthday. According to my birth certificate, which lists my parents, grandparents, etc. back to the fourth generation, I am the last in a long, prestigious line of red & apricot toy poodles.

However, documents may be forged, no? Mama informs me that I'm too tall and too portly to be considered a toy poodle. So, from this day forward, just call me Miniature Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir.

Surely each birthday evokes a certain amount of self examination along with concerns about identity: toy/miniature, nurture/nature, culture of origin/adopted culture, and so on.

But equally if not more importantly, birthdays bring Gifts & Presents. I love gifts & presents. And I appreciate them, each and every one. Presents should be wrapped in tissue paper, preferably tied up with a pretty ribbon. I love gift wrapping and I appreciate each gift and present wrapping (and unwrapping). It is so sweet that my friends and fans, my Maman et Papa, grandmere et granpere are thinking of me on my birthday; and should you need just a bit of assistance in the gifts & presents department, read on.

My birthday list:

Handmade doggie IQ-test toy (real wood)

Doggie Casino Brainy Board Game

ARFgyle Dog sweater (for celebration when the hideous heat & humidity ends)

Eco dog personalized place mat

Dream Dog toy

Meteorite LED ball dog toy

May your day on this, my birthday, be as happy as mine is and continues to be. Cheers from your friend on my special day with many happy returns of this day for us all.

In My Eye [Cue]

This entry should suggest certain important topics--measuring intelligence, psychological health, to name only 2-- rather than simply the appropriateness of the toys presented to me. Remember that as you read on:
Mama et Papa feel obligated to proffer Educational Toys. [I do respect their choice to maintain 2 largish boxes of cadeaux for me] For example, carefully examine the toy I'm holding; the "challenge" is to remove each of the smaller ball contained within.

What a laugh. In, out, a ball's a ball. I hesitate [for modesty's sake] to reveal that on my first try I extracted each of the seven balls. Further, I discovered that only 3 of the balls squeeked-- and obviously those are the only balls I choose to play with. Too yawn-making.

Yes, my IQ is high. No real need for the Intellectually Stimulating Toy, psychological testing, or even a reminder of my Pawtropolis diploma earned [& discussed in entry of July 21, 2006].

Naturally, I occasionally indulge in the game to please Mama. And concommitently I indugle her effulgence as she watches me apply New Skills.

Here's a cue regarding the level of my intelligence: my preference on these hot, humid, bug-ridden days is to relax on Mercury's Chair on my screened in porch and watch the world go by. Doesn't that strike you as a highly intelligence choice?