Birthday celebrations

I celebrate my birthdays like a Royal - I have two! woof! woof! My actual birthday falls on July 9th but the humans like to also celebrate it on September 26th, which was the day they first brought me home.

My human companion often tells the story. She was looking on the internet one day and saw this beautiful little cocker spaniel puppy...

I was one of a litter of six, and I was born in Wales, and because of that, and my colouring, the breeder had named me Taffy (like toffee). However, Taffy is sometimes used as a term for someone from Wales in the same way that Paddy is used for the Irish. The river Taff flows through Cardiff, so Taffy comes from that, I suppose, and even though the Welsh name Taffy means beloved, which is delightful, my new human family had heard the following nursery rhyme so changed my name to Bobby.

Taffy was a Welshman

Taffy was a thief;

Taffy came to my house

And stole a piece of beef

I went to Taffy's house,

Taffy was not home;

Taffy came to my house

And stole a marrow bone.

I went to Taffy's house,

Taffy was not in;

Taffy came to my house

And stole a silver pin.
I went to Taffy's house,
Taffy was in bed;
I took up a poker
And threw it at his head

Anyway, they decided to drive all the way to Wales, North Wales, in the shadow of a great mountain, and there I was with my mummy and my little brother Ben. To this day they cannot understand why I was not the first of the litter to be picked, I was so handsome, unless it is because I have a distinctive white patch on my neck. Perhaps others wanted a pup to be a show dog, and thought that patch detrimental, but my humans love that it makes me easily recognisable. I think, perhaps I was simply meant to be with them.

And besides, I could have been a champion showdog, because my grandfather was a champion at Crufts - the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, people!

So the humans met my mother and the breeder in her home, and decided on me🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

While chatting, the breeder mentioned that this was my mother's first litter and, when each of her puppies were collected she had cried. This made my human sad, so sad, that when the day came to collect me, she arranged for the breeder to meet at the nearest garage.

 My mother was very young when she had me so sometimes my humans wonder whether we should go back one day to Wales to see her. They wonder would I recognise her as my mother, would she recognise me as the boy she lost? They wonder what happened to my other 5 brothers and sisters -where did life take them? What type of owners do they have? Where do they live now? They would like to do a Dogs' Lost Families episode with me at its centre (pitching it here, any TV execs out there reading this). Maybe a website Furiends Reunited!! Woof!

Basically, birthdays are about reflection, celebration, and new starts. Oh and don't forget cake.  And biscuits. I love biscuits. Lots of biscuits.

My human got me these fabulous pupcakes and biscuits from The Doggie Patisserie 5 🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾