Charles Barkley turned 13 this week, 12 of those as my housemate. He's still every bit the Charles. Why, just last evening he valiantly and awkwardly rose to Lucy's defense as we were all walking along a greenbelt. However, I'm proud that he went through the whole renovation without incident with any of the workers. The only thing 13 about him are is lanky hips, but he keeps on trucking as best an old dog can. He's a loyal friend to all that earn their way into his inner circle, he self-appointedly keeps us safe, he keeps Lucy entertained (and keeps the deep recesses of her ears clean), he doesn't fetch. Happy birthday bud!
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