About four years ago this week I got Murphy, my chunky bull terrier.  She was eight at the time, and is twelve now.

Quite a bit has happened in the intervening years, but good old Murph has always been there.  And now she’s getting a mom in Dr. Fiancée and a canine sister (about whom she is probably less enthusiastic).

The life expectancy for bull terriers is between eleven and thirteen years, but Murphy seems to be doing well.  She spends her days relaxing and enjoying treats, and she still baffles me with her love of sunning herself in 100-degree weather.  Murphy is enjoying her golden years in relative luxury and comfort—at least, the meager kinds of luxury and comfort I can provide her.

With that, here is 11 July 2024’s “TBT^4: Big News: TPP is Going to the Dogs“:

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Roughly three years ago I adopted by dog, Murphy.  She is a bull terrier—think of Spuds MacKenzie or the Target dog, Bullseye—and is now eleven-years old.

Murphy is still much the same as she has always been.  She’s a bit slower now than she was when I first got her, but if she sees a squirrel or a bird or a cat, she can really hoof it.

These days, she spends most of the time lounging next to me when I’m home, or lounging out in the sun.  During our recent trip to see my older brother in Indianapolis, she took great pleasure in his small backyard, which had plenty of sunny spots for her to enjoy.

She also really enjoyed his couch.

She is a good, sweet, stubborn old girl, and I’m very thankful for her.  She’s my chocolate chunklet.

With that, here is “TBT^2: Big News: TPP is Going to the Dogs“:

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