Today, you are 15 weeks old! Even though you're no longer the little bundle of fur, you still put a smile on people's faces when they meet you.
Your puppy training is going really well. Last week was the first week we were able to walk consistently without you pulling on my pant legs. (See movie of Mel trying to walk you: click) I know how much fun that was for you. These days, you tend to veer off and try to bite OTHER people's coats or pants as they walk by. You cute l'il bastard.
You're by far the smartest puppy in your kinderpuppy class. You won the puppy pushup contest by a huge margin. Obviously, you take after Risto in this respect.
However, as well as you perform in class, the attention and respect you show us in there disappears the moment you set foot outdoors and there is one or more of the following around:
1. another dog
2. grass with pee on it
3. a plastic bag
4. coffee cup
5. OMG.. TWO dogs
6. cigarette butts
7. ABC gum
8. squirrel(s)
9. pigeon(s)
10. other random bits of garbage
This is something you must work on this week. You are masterful at ignoring us, those noisy humans that seem perpetually joined to the rope around your neck. Even a tasty treat bribing your nose won't deter you from watching what YOU want to see until YOU have decided that it's either going away or no longer worth your focused attention.
At puppy day care this week, you've learned that you can't be a bully otherwise NO. ONE. WILL. PLAY. WITH. YOU. Henry and Maury just don't give a crap if you bark at them. What they do care about is that you don't body check them all over the room. They won't play until you figure out how to be gentle. Your paw is bigger than both of their heads. Combined. And by the way... Maury ate half a rat. He's cute, but I wouldn't sniff his ass too closely if I were you.
At home, you've finally realized your joy for playing with Ted, a little wierd terrier breed that has the face and personality of Animal.
He likes to run and you like to chase. Girl, you need to play a little hard to get. Grabbing his argyle sweater to hold him down isn't exactly the best way into his heart.
Your favorite spot to poop is among the ivy covering the gardens before we hit the park. The IVY. Which means *I* have to hunt through the leaves and vines in order to bag your poop. Seriously, why?
Grass isn't good enough?
Only insipid dogs poop on grass?
This brings me to the various incidents of Saturday Night. You know what I'm talking about. Risto and I left you for 3.5 hours AFTER taking you out for a super long walk at Trinity Park, where you had a rockin' good time frolicking with Charlie, your new poodle friend. I'm sure you whined like a bratty dog the entire time we were gone, but there is no evidence that suggests it. However, when we did come home and let you out, you were PISSED. Literally. You kept peeing even after we took you outside. You peed when we didn't even think you had anything left in you to pee. Do you have some sort of secret chamber of pee you reserve for occasions like this? At one point, you delibrately walked over to me, stood by the balcony door, looked me straight in the eye, squatted ...and peed. That's a little low, don't you think?
On Sunday, we knew you still loved us.
We are also taking steps to find a compromise to your food situation. The brand the vet originally recommended to us would have had us bankrupt before you were 2 years old. We switched you to Iams. Now, in your seemingly innocent naps, you have crossed over to Risto's dark side. Between your competing clouds of gases, my coroner's certificate is going to read "death by asphyxiation".
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