My dog is growing at the speed of light. Or at least, that's what I'm told. I don't really notice it. It's rather like how your children grow bigger and bigger but you're deep in the minutiae of parenting and too close to the growth to see it until suddenly their pants are at their knees and distant relatives are commenting on how grown up your babies are?
It's like that. Only pant-less and with more UPS drivers refusing to get out of their vehicles to bring you your parcel so instead they honk their horn until you come out and reassure them that the beast sitting on the deck barking at them isn't in fact, a hound from hell.
I took Abbott to the vet last week for his six-month check up and the vet just about choked when he saw the numbers on the scale Abbott was sitting on.
He looked at his chart and noted Abbott's age and then looked at me and then looked at my dog and he started to laugh.
I think he was laughing AT me and not with me. So my dog is bigger than me. I'm still totally the boss of him.
I admit, I couldn't see his size. I mean, I know how LITTLE he is compared to his relatives. He's just a baby. My baby. My wee small pony-sized beastie who still has a lot of growing to do. He's not big. He's too small to be big.
And then yesterday I realized I was eye level with my dog as I was working at my computer.
Suddenly, I'm all holy crappers, my dog got BIG and "Do you mind? That is my coffee. Please keep your tongue out of it," and I can't even move my cup further away from him because he can reach everything. Anywhere.
I'm going to need a taller table or a shorter dog.
Mom, I want to go outside and play.
Mom, I really think you should get off the computer and come play outside with me.
Mom. Come. PLAY.
*thanks for sticking around in my absence. I'll tell you about that tomorrow. Right now I have to go throw a stick before my overgrown toddler dog decides to take away my laptop.*