So. My dog is your average, pink polo shirt wearing, psychotic greyhound mix. And today, Marion turned the big one oh. In honor of this occasion, the woman bought the dog a "cake" (Note: By all indications, re: my attempts to shove a freaking candle into the ... rock hard layer of cookie ... this was not "cake" in a traditional, human sense). We sang to the dog (the dog sang along), and posed the dog despite her growing anxiety about the cake's potential escape. When Marion heard her release word, she focused her anxiety on the destruction of her "prey." Finally, Marion transitioned from trying to eat the entire cake at once to general contentment (with her cake, at least). That last pic -- the seeming contentment -- is only a shadow of the joy she's brought to us these past 6 years.