Our miniature schnauzer, George, turned six yesterday.  Poor guy got more than he bargained for on his birthday:

I think he has a skin infection, because he's been scratching like there's no tomorrow.  He also likes to chew on his nails, so his very sharp nails have just torn apart all the skin on both his flanks.  I'm going to try a vinegar rinse in a few days, but I want the open wounds to heal first, hence his fancy new outfit (which he loves, by the way).

Sadly, vet care here is abysmal, so George is going to have to rely on my internet research to ease his itchiness.     

Speaking of birthdays, I celebrated my 28th about two weeks ago, and it was a much better birthday than the year before.  M gave me a coffee mug, O. made me a really sweet card and my good friend, Lauren, humbled me with a shout-out on her blog.  Not only did I get the undivided attention of my husband all night, our friends Lena and Omar and Brian and Nadine joined us for my birthday tradition, lemon cake (as baked by Joey - who also had an easier time than last year with the cake), and prosecco.  

It's my birthday, and I'll wear my comfy African pajama pants that make my ass look huge if I want to.