It’s Piper’s Birthday

It’s Piper’s Birthday

It’s my birthday, April 27. Mom tells me my birth date means I’m a Taurus. I don’t know what that means. I tell her I’m a doggy.

I’m 10 years old. In human years I’m still a kid. In doggy years, that’s really old. I’m going to pretend I’m a human kid for my birthday.

I’m going to get lots of special treatment and treats for my birthday. Mom already gave me one special surprise. She told me a story. I’ll share it with you.

One of the little girls in our family and Mom were talking about doggies. She’s younger than me. The little girl, not Mom. Her name is Ava. She’s only 4. Mom told Ava I’m a writer. Ava thought and thought. Then she asked, “Does Piper have fingers so she can hold a pencil?”

I like stories. That’s a special story. I like Ava. She’s special. So am I. Mom tells me I’m special. My first mommy, Mommy Kim, thinks so too. So does everyone who meets me. That’s because I am special. I’m a doggy. And doggies are special.

Because I’m special I get to do lots and lots and lots of special things for my birthday. I get to go for a car ride. We’ll go for a long walk over to the creek. And we’ll play ball in the meadow. I can run and run. Then I have to jump as high as I can to catch the ball. I’ll get lots of pets and treats too. Maybe Mom will even tell me another story. I like stories. I like all the things I get to do on my birthday.

I like my birthday. It’s really, really special. I think I’ll have a whole bunch more.