This post was written a few weeks before I had to say farewell to my Felicia, I did not have the emotional energy to publish at the time.

Today, I do feel I owe it to my sweet, impossible, adorable Felicia.

February is my favourite month because it’s my Birthday! I’m always very impatient to get my gifts and see what fun surprise activity Veronica has organised.

I had already received a gift from Maria, Qastors “Mom”, a super cool, working dog, service sign. It’s from the Swedish Working dog club.

I’m not a member, but I do a lot of work: off the top of my head, I chase cats and birds from the garden, keep intruders from entering our property, to name a few.

I deserve this super cool sign.

Veronica likes it because she can see me if ever I get the idea to explore the forest, which happens, occasionally.

She’s very worried that the hunters from France (very close by) will mistake me for a boar (if I cross the border by mistake). Hunting is forbidden in Geneva.

I feel a little insulted, a boar? Really! They are nothing like me. C’mon do I look like a pig?? Please!

We did see two boars running over our path the other day. Veronica told everyone it was lucky I was on a leash. FYI, I would never run after those guys.

Don’t get me wrong, I am absolutely not afraid, oh no, I just feel the proper forest etiquette is not to bother other animals.

Also, they seemed kind of in a hurry, you know, places to go, people to see.

The day before my Birthday Dr L found two new tumors. I will need a surgery…again. Actually I’m not that worried, this is not my first rodeo.

We did, however, have a fun Birthday. First as expected the Birthday Pic. I think I look gorgeous in the red ribbon, (it’s my special B day ribbon).

Incidentally I don’t mind this setting, I mean, it could be a lot worse. Here I am, comfortably lying on Veronica’s bed and what’s more: On a soft Society blanket.

Heavily bribed, goes without saying.

She did not forget the talk. The “Now you’re nine” talk. I kept on thinking she would drop it, but that’s not Veronica…oh no. Rules and traditions have to be followed.

Whatever, I’ve stopped listening.

I got my hamburger cake, delicious, and two gifts.

What’s with the “Only two gifts” business? First Santa now Veronica. What’s their problem? Money issues? Something’s seriously wrong

I suggest one additional gift per year, that would be nine. Much more appropriate.

I loved my funny, fluffy duck. And I got some dental bones. Veronica usually hides them and I have to search all over the house, It’s a lot of fun.

In the evening we went for this walking tour through Geneva Lux festival. It’s an outdoor light exhibition, very cool.

All would have been perfect hadn’t Veronica complained about my so called “bossy attitude” (her words not mine). Apparently I expressed my dissatisfaction on the presence of other dogs too loudly.

Ridiculous, I just asked them, politely, to keep some distance.

Surgery day: Dr L reassures me, he’s really the best!

Once home I get to recuperate close to Veronica. Big plus, I did not need the torture cone!!

I did feel very sorry for myself, yes, I’m a medical hero. So I felt entitled to some benefits. Like sleeping on the (newly recovered) sofa.

This did not go down well, Veronica clearly does not understand the concept of healing privileges.

To express my fury, I took a very, very long time to get down, letting my leg linger on the sofa as long as possible… Ha

Then there was the digging incident…again.

I know I have never caught a rat, but I will….one day…. If a Jack Russel can so can I. I will refine my technique. 9 years is not that long…is it?

Veronica doesn’t need to tell all her friends about my underachievement, and laugh about it.

To annoy her, once home, I jumped right upon the sofa. Serves her right, teasing me.

When Dr L took away the stitches he was very happy The tumors were not dangerous. I have two new interesting scars, I’m the Indiana Jones of Boxers!

I’m a medical hero. I’m brave and strong with interesting scars. People will call me “The Brave, strong, gorgeous Boxer girl”.

Those Boars better stay put: here comes Felicia, the Indiana Jones of Boxers!

I miss my Felicia, a lot, as does Dennis