Boxer Brief
When I'm feeling blue I like to think about dogs. Actually, I prefer to hang out with them, but I don't have one. So today, since I'm kind of depressed that my morning train hit a guy (he survived) I am going to post instead about April's and Alex's dogs.
When I saw Quintus and Sparta about six weeks ago, they were growing rapidly, but still small enough to be immobilized on my lap. I found them and their scrunched faces irresistable, and the sight of Alex and April following them around like hawks waiting for the first sign of squatting--hysterical. Alex informed me that the housebreaking routine was funny only to me, and that if they were laughing along it was only because they were high off of shit fumes. But yesterday I could see just how much the godpuppies had grown. They are now about four months old. Sparta weighs about 28 pounds, but will still sit semi-cooperatively in my lap as long as she's allowed to lick my face. Sparta's underbite is quite pronounced, even for a boxer, and the vet is concerned. I asked if she was going to get braces, and April said if they found a dog orthodontist they'd consider it. Quintus, in the meantime, is already 38 pounds, and his paws are about the size of the palm of my hand. I struggled to get him into my lap, but nothing that huge and fidgety could stay there for long. The parents are looking much happier, too. The dogs are now housebroken, and except for a certain incident after Sparta swallowed a dryer sheet, I don't get told any more funny stories.
When I saw Quintus and Sparta about six weeks ago, they were growing rapidly, but still small enough to be immobilized on my lap. I found them and their scrunched faces irresistable, and the sight of Alex and April following them around like hawks waiting for the first sign of squatting--hysterical. Alex informed me that the housebreaking routine was funny only to me, and that if they were laughing along it was only because they were high off of shit fumes. But yesterday I could see just how much the godpuppies had grown. They are now about four months old. Sparta weighs about 28 pounds, but will still sit semi-cooperatively in my lap as long as she's allowed to lick my face. Sparta's underbite is quite pronounced, even for a boxer, and the vet is concerned. I asked if she was going to get braces, and April said if they found a dog orthodontist they'd consider it. Quintus, in the meantime, is already 38 pounds, and his paws are about the size of the palm of my hand. I struggled to get him into my lap, but nothing that huge and fidgety could stay there for long. The parents are looking much happier, too. The dogs are now housebroken, and except for a certain incident after Sparta swallowed a dryer sheet, I don't get told any more funny stories.
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