A year old...REALLY?

As she sits here next to me, legs folded under her like a lawnchair in her post doggie daycamp state of exhaustion, I can't believe that Ruby is almost a year old. When I picked her from the litter of 8 at only 5 weeks old last December, it was because I looked down and saw that she had climbed into my lap in precisely the position she lays in right now, while I was distracted by 7 other energetic puppies. So as I've said before, it was more like she picked me.

It is remarkable how such a tiny body could grow...essentially 9 times her bring-home weight of 9lbs 2oz...in under a year. Nobody can lift her to weigh her any longer, so we're just guessing she's around 100 pounds. And at her back, she is officially table height. Her face rests comfortably on the kitchen table at any time.

For all my complaining about her various transgressions, I love this silly dog. Most days she's in trouble more than out of it, but it turns out she CAN be trained. When she looks at me like I'm the greatest human on earth, I know that at least in Ruby's world, I really am. And, on even my worst days, when everybody else on the planet is pissed off at me, I can always count on Ruby to look at me and smile her big, goofy, slobbering smile. She's really my best buddy and as I've recovered from this stupid knee surgery, it's been great having her by my side (or safely on the floor at my feet).

I have to return to work tomorrow, a few hours a day this week and then full time next week. I could lie and say I'm looking forward to it, but, well, that would be a lie. But at least I get to look forward to coming home to a wonderful family who, though sometimes collectively or individually pissed off at me, still support and love me, and to this big droopy-eyed, lovable dog, who will never see me as anything but perfect. That feels pretty good.

Enough of the sloppy stuff...

So I've written about Ruby's constant dismantling of various toys. Every once in awhile I try and patch some of them back together, unless they are too far gone and then they sleep with the fishes. Last week, deep in a Vicodin haze and needing something to do, I pulled out some of the headless, legless and stuffingless toys and started to patch. Then I got creative. Perhaps it was the drugs.

So that's formerly Rasta Monkey, wearing Floppy Squirrel's face as a mask, huddled up with Headless Horsey, now sporting Rasta Monkey's dreads. Together, they are now known as Squirrel Monkey and Rasta Horsey (who was very happy to have his head reattached to his body).

I guess I'm channeling my inner Sid (please get obscure Toy Story reference).

Ruby doesn't seem to care, she plays with them like she always did. I gotta wonder if she has nightmares though. :)

Favorite picture of the week requires a little explanation. That's an episode of America's Funniest Home Videos on TV. Two squirrels stalking a bowl of Halloween candy with one of those motion-activated scary hands that slaps when you get close. Ruby shot off the couch and started barking and leaping at the TV when she saw the raccoons. 

It must be so confusing for her. 'They're here, but I can't GET them!'

Carry on...