My Growing Pup

My puppy is growing up I've realized. I knew she would, but deep down I wish that she would stay the same size she is now, sort of like a pygmy puppy. I'd be perfectly happy with that.

My wife tells me today that Boomer's tail is now at wagging height of the coffee table and can effectively clear it in one smooth swat. Her paws, once clownishly over sized, now fit her growing physique. She can keep up with and most times out run our older, larger dog. She is tall enough to jump on any piece of furniture in the house. And she thinks that everything that fits in her mouth, and lots of things that don't, are naturally hers. Boomer's favorite toy: my wife's underwear. I can't help but smile when Boomer comes bounding down the stairs at full run, a pair of Meghan's undies flapping in the wind.

Everyday my love for that pup grows and grows. Just looking at her brings a smile to my face. Today, I'm working a 48-hour shift, so I call my wife and ask her "can you bring Boomer into South so I can see her?" Then after a pause at the other end of the line I add "and I want to see you to."

My wife and I, even without children right now, have a family.