Crazy cousin Blaise

Since moving to AZ, the Newfies have gotten to spend a ton of time with Blaise, my sister's Rottweiler. Although they get along pretty well, she is definitely a different breed from Thatcher and Boden. Where they are mellow and slow-moving, she is spunky and tightly-wound. We always joke that she is Tigger and they are Eeyores. Blaise has endless energy, so as hard as they try, my boys can't keep up with her for too long. One area she really shows them up in is the pool. Thatcher and Boden prefer to glide into the water and swim gracefully so they don't get splashed. Blaise is a jumper and will fly half-way across the pool to get at whatever toy is thrown. We have to make all the dogs take turn when playing fetch in the pool, otherwise the Newifes don't stand a chance. 

Spring fever

Snow monsters

Snow day

This morning I woke up to a message from my boss with the most delightful news: snow day. We got something like 5-6 inches of snow overnight, so I was thrilled I did not have to attempt the slow commute to work on the unplowed roads. It's been snowing most of the day, and this kind of weather makes me want to snuggle up, drink tea and read a book. Thatcher and Boden have different ideas in mind, and assume that since I am home with them all day, we should probably spend as much time as possible outside in the snow. You can guess which of us has gotten our way. 

Honestly, this snow is a nice change because it covers up the layers upon layers of ice that have formed along every sidewalk and street from the variations in weather this winter. Yesterday, during our morning walk, I slipped on the ice and fell flat on my bottom. The dogs immediately came to my rescue, jumping all over me and trying to make sure I was alright, but preventing me from being able to get back up. So my bruised tailbone is relieved that the ice is covered up for at least the next couple of days. And until then, Thatcher and Boden are once again the happiest Newfies in the world. 

Lazy fights

Our Newfies take laziness to a whole new level. They play lying down. The ultimate goal: do not get up unless absolutely necessary. Most fights escalate into one or both of the dogs having to stand to get some leverage. But I spend many mornings sipping my coffee, with the background noise of quiet, playful growling while Thatcher and Boden roll around on their backs, pawing each other in the face. If they are using a bed or couch as their battleground, they've both agreed that the "safe zone" is mom or dad's lap. I've spilled countless cups of coffee from Boden suddenly scrambling up into my lap, hiding from Thatcher's attack. Nothing like hot coffee and a 100lb puppy being dumped into your lap at the same time. 

Teddy

Boden has an affinity for stuffed animals. He likes to cuddle with them, carry them around, shake them vigorously and wave them in Thatcher's face. All night tonight, he has been prancing around the house with his yellow fuzzy bear. He's been bringing it over to Thatcher and swinging it around, tempting Thatcher to try and steal it. Most stuffed animals have a tragic fate once Thatcher takes the bait. The subject of a game of tug-o-war, their limbs are usually torn apart and their bodies de-stuffed. Our living room often looks like a teddy bear graveyard. 

Chasing snowballs

Winter has settled in. The temperature has stayed mostly in the 20s or below, which has kept the snow crusty and the sidewalks icy. Thatcher and Boden are content. They don't seem to even notice the frigid weather. They don't feel sorry for us when we have to pile on layers just to walk them. They just want their walks. In fact, anytime we start putting on shoes or jackets, even if it's to leave for work or errands, the Newfies assume it means they get to go on a walk. They'll pace around us excitedly and follow us to the door. Needless to say, they are frequently disappointed when we close the doors and leave them behind. We've had to change our routine to shorter, more frequent walks rather than the long meandering walks we used to take. An easy way to let the dogs get some exercise in is to take them to the park up the street, which consists of a small playground and mostly vacant soccer and baseball fields. Here, they are free to run. Playing fetch when there's snow on the ground with dogs who are usually apathetic about retrieving consistently is not an option. We would lose far too many balls. So instead, we tromp around the outskirts of the field, throwing snowballs or sprinting ahead for Thatcher and Boden to chase us. We know it's time to head back home when the dogs won't stop lying down in the snow and biting at their paws - ice gets stuck in the hair around their toes and it drives them crazy.

Morning at the park

Walked to the park with the dogs this morning. While I froze in the brisk 30 degrees, they frolicked around the baseball and soccer fields without a care in the world. They love running after tennis balls and playing keep-away from each other. When I play fetch with them, I have to make them take turns, otherwise Thatcher dominates that ball and doesn't let it out of his grasp. I first throw the ball as far as I can for Thatcher and let him bring it back. Then I hold his collar and roll the ball about half that distance for Boden to go chase. Boden picked up on fetching really quickly and usually brings the ball back perfectly. Except when he knows Thatcher is waiting for it. In that case, he'll dance around Thatcher, taunting him with the ball. I'm surprised at how well Boden is able to hold onto the ball, before Thatcher flat out tackles him to the ground to take it back. 

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.

Wild thing

 

Wild animal on the loose tonight. Sharp teeth like needles, black fur and crazy eyes. Completely uncontrollable. No stuffed animal, human foot or piece of furniture is safe. Seems to have taken a liking to our home. Can we tame him? Yet to be determined.