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Still Life With Puppy

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Sebastian is here. All 129 lbs of him. He wriggles and he wiggles and he thwacks anything and everything with his tail. He's destroyed his crate bed and is currently lying at my feet doing his damnedest to make sure his chewy tire never rolls again. He constantly wonks his head on the desk, on the heater, on the bed and doesn't seem any the worse for wear. We've taken to calling him "Meathead." He's got horrific gas. He's only had two accidents since he got here -- both yesterday, and both while Shawn was out. Hurrah. A pup who only poos for me....

It's hard to remember that he's only 8 months old -- he doesn't know any better and if he were a smaller breed, it'd be so much easier to deal with -- you expect little fluffball puppies to have accidents and chew things they shouldn't. It doesn't help that he's already the size of a large Lab. His daddy was 240 lbs, and the breeder expects he'll get to be 220, at least. Good god.

However, he is a lovebug. He comes to see me in bed every time Shawn comes back with him. He snuffles his giant wet nose into the crook of my shoulder and just stands there, smelling me. His ears are floppy and even though he looks like a grown-up dog, he still has that undefinable puppy-smell.

I'm falling in love.
Current Mood:
content content
Current Music:
rubber chewy tire, begging for mercy
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