A Puppy Turns Two

Peat came into our lives when he was seven weeks old. Today he turned two years. Two is the magic number they say when a puppy makes the transition from being a little feral in our case into something more tame. The first year, we didn’t know if we could survive his inquisitiveness and curiosity of our world.

He’s been obsessed with things in his mouth since the day we brought him home. He’s especially fond of wood, fabric, plastic, and paper. An incredible upland bird retriever by nature he gets his daily practice by getting his mouth on anything possible and taking it outside through the dog door. A visiting guest’s boxer shorts, an entire pan of brownies, at least six pairs of reading glasses, two pairs of expensive prescription ones, a couple of pot holders, fridge magnets, throw rugs, the list unfortunately goes on. I can’t blame him entirely; we humans put those things in places that were hard for him to resist.

He’s not what we call a “gentle lover.” He wants to give you affection and licks with the same intensity as when he bursts full speed into the kitchen through the dog door before proceeding to run hot laps around the living room couch and dining room table while growling fiercely like a wild dog.  Sometimes he doesn’t know when to stop and our older dog goes into hiding. He likes to play more than anything and can entertain himself by spinning circles while chasing his own stubby, docked tail.

He sleeps on the bed with us at night and presses his little furry body against ours as hard as he can. I call him my little sweet pea. He’s like a pea in the pod when he pushes up against your stomach or the back of your knees. This winter, during one of my sleepless nights I heard him say, “I’m cold.” I’m serious. Bob told me that I was dreaming when I told him about it the next morning. Can this little dog be a reincarnation of a human? I often think about this when he stares at me with his almost human eyes or makes noises while in his crate on car rides. The whining noises he makes almost sound like baby talk.

At two months, I started taking photos of Peat on the second day of every month at the same spot in front of the yellow woodshed door. At age one, for no reason, I stopped documenting his growth. Peat really hasn’t changed a lot in the past year in size except a little more muscular and thankfully a little more civilized. We promised that he would be our last puppy. Some of you know what I’m talking about; it’s a lot of work raising a dog from a very young age. It takes patience and you will go through every spectrum of emotion along the way.

We love this sweet little orange roan creature and look forward to many more years with him being part of our family.