Twelve weeks

12 weeks today!

Boden is 12 weeks old today, and just over 30 lbs. I've really been noticing how much taller he is lately. He can now see out of the window in the backseat of the car without propping himself up on Thatcher's back. He can also drink out of the water tub in the backyard without having to stand on his makeshift step-stool (two pieces of wood stacked next to it). I swear it was just the other day that he fell into that water tub. The water level was at about half, so he had to really stand on his tip toes and lean in to take a drink. I happen to be watching as he tipped just a little too far in, lost his balance and dropped into the tub. He was so confused he started thrashing around frantically, so I had to run over and rescue him. Also, he has mastered stairs. Runs up and down them like a champ.

He's really becoming a little spitfire though. Poor Thatcher is never left alone for long. Just like us humans, he loses a lot of sleep due to Boden's new-found mischievous side. It's become a morning tradition for the three of us. I will wake up, or be woken up by one or both of the dogs, go downstairs and let them outside. Come back in and grab a cup of coffee. They will then commence their routine wrestling match. It mostly consists of them growling and mimicking each other's weird sounds. Otherwise, it's Thatcher on the offense, knocking Boden over every chance he gets. Boden, on the contrary, prefers a hit and run strategy. He'll run out and strike at Thatcher, then run and slide under the ottoman (which he just barely still fits under). As I write this, Boden is barking at Thatcher, taunting him to play. A wrestling match has begun.

 Throughout the roughhousing, many toys end up with missing limbs. We have dozens of dog toys littered all around our house, yet Boden prefers the items he isn't supposed to have, namely shoes. I remember losing several pairs of shoes to Thatcher, but I fear Boden is going to be much worse if we aren't careful. Most days when I get home, I find a shoe that was in the bedroom upstairs has made its way to the kitchen. Or a shoe that was in the back entryway has wandered to the upstairs hallway. So far, no terrible chew marks. But I'm starting to be aware.The entry way / shoe room is now safely guarded by a baby gate. Hopefully Boden doesn't learn to climb over it any time soon, I'd like to get past this puppy stage without compromising all my pairs of heels that I've finally started building back up since Thatcher's puppy days.


The moments I love the most with both dogs are those random little times they want to snuggle. Boden will walk over flop into my lap, or wait to be lifted up onto the couch with me. Thatcher's always been the same. Some mornings I'll wake up to him lying right next to me on the bed, quietly watching the squirrels out the window while he waits for me to wake up. Or I'll be working on a computer, and Thatch will climb right up onto the couch and rest his head in my lap. These are the moments that always make my heart melt. Right now is not one of those moments. Thatcher and Boden are lying on the floor right beneath my legs, staring at eachother and barking for no reason in the world. My legs keep getting lifted up by Thatcher's back, as he tries to reach Boden who keeps hiding under them.