(no subject)
One of Walter's ears has been standing up on its own lately. How exciting! I like witnessing all the small changes that come about with growth. I'm guessing this is how it is with a child, only sped up. Although Walter isn't learning words, he is barking and "speaking" in new ways that make me laugh every time. I try to get it on video, but he seems to only perform the act while I am sitting far enough away from my phone where I will have to disrupt his yawns/"oh oh ohs"/cries by getting up. I will capture one eventually. I like seeing his legs get longer and stronger. He can jump onto the couch now with little to no assistance. His snout has grown and I like to kiss both sides with exaggerated affection. His tail is twice as long since the beginning of December. He has a lot more teeth; bigger teeth! His baby teeth must have been swallowed up, because I have yet to see any evidence on the floors or in his toys (and I have been looking, because I wish to save one). The bib around his neck is growing thick and straight out. His pants are getting longer. His head, with all the fuzz, is getting fatter. I kiss the top probably more than 100 times a day. I love how he smells fragrant like the house, but with a little bit of animal musk. Walter's personality is gaining depth. He is less unhinged, but still has (what feels like) endless puppy energy. He knows when he's bad. He forgives easily. He knows when it's time to join Rick and I for bed. Even when he's not ready, Walter accepts his fate for the night. He picks a corner in the room and lays his back against the molding. Not even five minutes later, his little mouth is open and he's very much asleep.
When Walter sits outside on the mid-deck, he stares at the sky; one ear up. Sometimes he closes his eyes when the wind begins to blow. It looks very introspective, like he's meditating inward, out. I watch as his little nostrils quickly open and close, taking in new and familiar smells. Learning. Rick laid three sheets of fake grass out there for Walter to lay on. He paws at it and sometimes barks when the icy sheets crackle back at him. That sound usually instigates a full 20 minutes of hopping, barking, pawing, running and more barking. He likes when things respond to him; human or otherwise. I obsessively keep watch over him while he's sitting out there, checking back every other minute. Even though the mid-deck resides in the enclosed atrium of this small apartment complex (only 8 apartments), I get worried that he will choke on one of the pine cones he insists on chewing or finally run after one of those feral cats or someone in the apartments that I am not familiar with will see a very beautiful dog and just know the price on its head is large and steal him. I'm paranoid about that. The worry sometimes grips my heart and I feel out of breath. My parents instilled the kidnapping fear in my sister and me at a very young age. Our mother was sometimes consumed with that phobia when Paula and I were small. She felt that since she had TWO babies, that some crazy person would figure it's ok to take one for themselves (she heard about instances like this on the news). To this day she feels it was completely logical to warn us to be conscious of every slow passing vehicle that drove by the yard, even if we were playing all the way in the back. There have been countless times where Paula and I would burst into the house, breathlessly exclaiming how we saw someone drive by real slowly and we think they were watching us. My mom would then have us remain inside for at least an hour until we calmed down or she felt it was safe for us to go out and play again. Something important to note: the speed limit on that road was 35 mph. And the cops were very strict. So, there you have it. But that fear, however illogical, has never left me. Maybe because there is some logical behind it. People are greedy, unpredictable, and sometimes monstrous forces. I know this is a tired saying, but "it's better to be safe than sorry." In this case, I will heed the warning. I love Walter too much.
Having a Walter is so difficult and time-consuming and frustrating. But I feel like I won a huge prize, because all of the tiresome things are 100% outweighed by ever-growing love, affection and fun I have with him.
When Walter sits outside on the mid-deck, he stares at the sky; one ear up. Sometimes he closes his eyes when the wind begins to blow. It looks very introspective, like he's meditating inward, out. I watch as his little nostrils quickly open and close, taking in new and familiar smells. Learning. Rick laid three sheets of fake grass out there for Walter to lay on. He paws at it and sometimes barks when the icy sheets crackle back at him. That sound usually instigates a full 20 minutes of hopping, barking, pawing, running and more barking. He likes when things respond to him; human or otherwise. I obsessively keep watch over him while he's sitting out there, checking back every other minute. Even though the mid-deck resides in the enclosed atrium of this small apartment complex (only 8 apartments), I get worried that he will choke on one of the pine cones he insists on chewing or finally run after one of those feral cats or someone in the apartments that I am not familiar with will see a very beautiful dog and just know the price on its head is large and steal him. I'm paranoid about that. The worry sometimes grips my heart and I feel out of breath. My parents instilled the kidnapping fear in my sister and me at a very young age. Our mother was sometimes consumed with that phobia when Paula and I were small. She felt that since she had TWO babies, that some crazy person would figure it's ok to take one for themselves (she heard about instances like this on the news). To this day she feels it was completely logical to warn us to be conscious of every slow passing vehicle that drove by the yard, even if we were playing all the way in the back. There have been countless times where Paula and I would burst into the house, breathlessly exclaiming how we saw someone drive by real slowly and we think they were watching us. My mom would then have us remain inside for at least an hour until we calmed down or she felt it was safe for us to go out and play again. Something important to note: the speed limit on that road was 35 mph. And the cops were very strict. So, there you have it. But that fear, however illogical, has never left me. Maybe because there is some logical behind it. People are greedy, unpredictable, and sometimes monstrous forces. I know this is a tired saying, but "it's better to be safe than sorry." In this case, I will heed the warning. I love Walter too much.
Having a Walter is so difficult and time-consuming and frustrating. But I feel like I won a huge prize, because all of the tiresome things are 100% outweighed by ever-growing love, affection and fun I have with him.