Sunday, January 24, 2016
young dog, new tricks
Cathie commented on Thursday's garbage essay that a regular member of the Mexpatriate cast was mentioned in the post, but only photographs of trash appeared -- and none of Barco.
It was a point well-taken. I have attempted to avoid turning these pages into a baby book for my little dog guy. However, I cannot avoid mentioning him now and then. After all, he easily eats up most of my day -- along with anything else he can get his mouth around.
But a couple of photographs are in order. In the month he has lived in the house with no name, he has been sprouting from a puppy into a dog.
I took him to the veterinarian this weekend for a vaccination. In two weeks he has gained more than two kilograms -- almost five pounds. He is now 13 kilograms. He is pushing 30 pounds. With ever-lengthening legs.
And he puts that weight to good advantage when he goes crackers each morning and evening. That mouth of his could find good service in a sawmill. My arms bear proof. I told him he needs to stop biting me or I will humiliate both of us by saying I own a cat.
There is a sports park two blocks from the house. We visit it three times a day. I was under the impression we visited there to take care of nature's call.
Barco thinks nature's call is hunting down every sentient being smaller than a golden retriever puppy and reducing it to lunch. That includes rodents that have long ago made their way to the hereafter.
And we have found a great new diversion -- the beach. The sand and surf turn Barco into Mr Crazy Dog, but Mr. Crazy Dog with charm.
So, there you have it. A few photographs. A bit of commentary.
That will hold us all for a bit.