Ben, meet twelve.

Twelve. 12 years and counting. 12 years, of knowing you. I had spotted you, the one shiny solid black pup in the litter of black and tan shepherd pups. You fell asleep as I held you and I knew you were mine.

You were the star in puppy class but a hellraiser at home. My devil dog. My baaad boy. I called you those things because you were challenging as a little one. When I didn’t know better. When I didn’t know you better.

You wait for me to wake up in the morning, content to sleep in, right along with me. I love that you start the day with long stretches of each of your legs, right down to each of your toes.

You lick to clean Molly’s face every morning and every night. On walks through the woods I so love to watch you two gallop shoulder to shoulder down the trails.

I know you can’t see as well in the dark anymore. But it is you that always find me first when we play hide and seek, Molly not far behind.

Solo walks are a pleasure for me to give to you. You move a bit different, you don’t walk, rather... meander. It’s different when it’s just you and me, I feel time move a little slower. You make that happen. On the warm days, as your step slows I bring you to the shade of trees for a needed rest and you are happy to indulge, rolling around, snorting and stretching, the cool grass on your belly, never failing to make me smile.

I stare at you a lot. I’ve watched the gray face come in, on your cheeks at first, you were still young at 2 years. One day the face of a distinguished and wise dog looked back at me. It’s hard to remember what you looked like before.

Today you turn 12.

You are my Zen dog. My take time to smell the roses dog. My live in the moment, be in the moment dog. My old soul dog. My teacher. I love you Zen Ben.

Happy Birthday my dear friend! That's 12 years... and counting!