Life by the Tail

There's a leftover sour taste in my mouth with all these health issues plaguing the parents and friends. Prayers are flooding in and out to everyone struggling with the changes we cannot stop.

Day 1

Sammy is curled up as I write this, having just come from a comfy snuggle in the after-the-alarm-and-before-rising zone. She is such a good dog, the right size, the right temperament, loyal and creative. The back yard has gaping holes where she is sure there is buried treasure. Or a bone.

Back in the early days of puppyownerhood we took a friend's advice and lined the run with kryptonite.  Frankly, we thought the recommendation was a little excessive, but she has labs and she would know. So we put in one stalwart defensive system of this thick metal grid along the fence and underground, too, with bricks buried about a foot down. What is this pet, a Velicoraptor?

The little furball thinks so. She keeps testing the perimeter fences all the way down to the brick. We set up a dig spot elsewhere but that's not enough. So now my husband heads into the back yard in the afternoons armed with a shovel to back fill her progress. 

We know this too shall pass.

Day 101

It is fun watching her grow into herself. She has an unquenching interest in all things counter-high, plus everything else. She is nudging closer to the pool, which is a big improvement over last summer when she would walk the long way around just to steer clear. We found her yesterday standing atop the dog house, lording over her castle. Or was that hatching a plan?

Her favorite snacks are carrots and cucumber; she bows when she catches the ball mid-flight; she poses for pictures. I'd say she's got life by the tail. Pass the Pup-a-Ronis, please!