12 Weeks Turns Out to be a Challenge
November 11, 2010
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Twelve weeks has been hard.
Sometimes we feel like each week is a rotation, one good week, the next a hard week, the next a good week, and so on. B actually feels that it’s more like three good days, three hard days, instead of weekly increments. This week Scout has hit the terrible twos. She does not want to walk. She does not want to listen. She wants to bark, and eat dried up worms, and chew on the carpet, and chase Zoey, and so forth. Like a child who is just learning the feeling of independence, Scout is pushing us.
“You tell me: would you want to walk when there are sticks like this to be chewed? I don’t think so.”
A poster on JustLabradors.com said it well: “12 weeks was when Malone [her puppy] got an attitude.” This has been true for Scout, too.
This is not to say that she doesn’t have her sweet moments. Last night we cursed her all through dinner, lamenting that, though we knew we’d survive puppyhood, she might make us never want another one. Then, after dinner, Scout curled up next to our legs as we sat on the couch and just looked at us with tender “I love you” eyes. All she wanted was to be near us. Is that too much to ask?
Sigh. “You’re cute, kid,” we said. And then we rubbed her belly.