You fight for us well, dear.

Ahem, ahem.

It’s my sugarbabe’s day o’ birth, and I‘d like to honor him with some words.

One of his best qualities is his loyalty.

In fact, I often call him my Doberman. Though my Drew is particularly even-keeled, try to attack one of his people.

Try.

One of his people happens to be his best friend, Sergis P., our 80-pound, English Bulldog.

See more about Sergis P., here.

While it’s offensive when Drew tells people I personally birthed Sergis, it lends credibility to his impact on Drew’s life.

Eye roll to the high heavens.

Our second year of law school found us living off pennies and eating off the Wendy’s value menu.

As we pulled up to the drive-through window, Sergis P. stuck his snaggletoothed self out the back window.

“He’s soooo cute,” the Wendy’s employee chirps.

The drive-through window immediately shuts.

“That is the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen,” she whispers to another employee.

Tap tap tap.

Tap tap tap was the sound of Drew aggressively pecking on the glass drive-through window with his finger.

We can hear you.

We can hear you, Drew repeated as he tapped heartily on the glass.

I could have died.

The look on that lady’s face.

You would have thought she witnessed the second coming.

The drive-through window creaks open as I wonder if she can take Drew.

Possibly.

“I was just kidding,” she claims.

She hands us our food.

And my knight and I slowly lurch away in our crusty Nissan Maxima with Sergis P.’s jowls flapping in the warm breeze.

Happiest of birthdays, my dear. You fight for us well.

9B4D9D60-0B47-4119-894C-C4EC83C4AD31

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