So soft. So supple. So warm. So floppy.
Ginger sits by the door now, staring at it, when she wants to go out. You don't have a lot of time to change from slippers to shoes and grab a coat and leash, but she has given you fair warning. It is time to go out. She has things to attend to. Now. She's nine weeks old - how much can you expect? Every second to her is like a minute or more to us.
And when I carry her down the stairs and plunk her on the ground, she has a "spot" that she races to, ears flapping up and down and back, as if she were trying to fly. And then she settles in once, twice, to take care of her business. A couple of "good girl"s from me, and we are flying back to the house. It's cold out. There's a nice warm spot in front of the woodstove with our names on it.
I am happy that I finally got my coat on the "get the puppy outside quick" circuit.
And fortunately, finding and returning to the diet of puppy food she started out on has decreased her need to go out every hour and a half around the clock...
I slept from 11 to 4:30 on Tuesday night and 11 to 5:30 last night - ok, I missed the Happy New Year's cheers... but totally enjoyed and cheered for the Happy New Ears that slept clean and dry through the night!
|Ginger and Aunt Pippi by the glowing woodstove|