In two days, Bartlett will have been with us a half a year.
She is bigger now: Up almost seven pounds from the day we brought her home, to exactly 10 pounds. Which probably means she'll continue to grow, because she's still a puppy. Her features have changed to a more mature look. Svelte, muscular, smooth. Really pretty.
But here in this homecoming photo, she is conked out in my lap at the age of eight weeks, with a short muzzle and cute floppy ears. Those have both lengthened. And her torso has elongated (we believe she is derived from sight-hound stock; think Whippet).
Behavior? Totally athletic. She can already jump up onto the bed. (She's been jumping off it for months.)
Obedience? Now and then. It's my biggest agony, and believe me, we work on her every day. Right now she is in the middle of a two-hour nap (a record) because she spent so much time outdoors this morning being good, and bad. Rewards with treats are a constant, but sometimes she'd rather just be naughty. No treat.
I think things will improve as she matures. Already we are seeing her learn to control herself. It will get better.
If she were a human baby, she'd still be in diapers, so I guess we're lucky. And no college tuition to save up for.
But even though young puppies are the cutest, I'm ready for Bartlett to grow up.
In my lap. (She still fits.)
She has the softest fur, ever.