Happy Birthday Olive!

Olive was born, so I have been told, on August 1, 2011. I wished her a happy birthday when she jumped onto my bed to say "good morning", but was unsure how else to celebrate. I took her to the dog park, which she loves, where we found quite a few dogs with their people frolicking before the day got too hot. Olive chased some tennis balls, made friends with a dog named "Lady", and was as pooped as I have ever seen her by the time I called her to go home. I was glad I had brought a bottle of water and her canvas dish, as she seemed especially thirsty. Since we got back I have been indulging her desire to play catch with the foam rubber saucer, play catch in the house with a light rubber ball, and go for walks every two hours. I keep telling myself I should do it because it's her birthday; isn't that, though, what I do every day?

Under other circumstances I would have taken today to drive out to the Falcon Ridge folk festival near the point where Connecticut, Massachusetts, and New York come together. There was a time I would go with my tent and stay for the entire festival. Now, however, I am still recovering from my week at Ashokan fiddle camp, it seems like a long drive, and beside that, how could I run out on Olive on her birthday? I am still contemplating going out there for Sunday, but will have to see  how I feel in the morning.

Since getting home a week ago Olive has settled back into what passes for a normal routine. I took her back to Candlewick on Tuesday for the day while I went north for a fiddle lesson. She seems to have taken to the place as a child might take to school: happy to go there, happier to go home at the end of the day.

I have been asked why I chose a border collie as a pet. The truth is that after Nanne left Olive with me to "foster" for a month, she decided that she liked it at my house and wanted to stay. I did not choose her; she chose me. Today on her birthday I can honestly say I am so glad she did.