Born on December 1, in my arms on Groundhog Day, I'm looking at a 5 1/2 month old, 26 pound (give or take one or two) blue merle Australian Shepherd with hazel eyes (green-gold). And I adore him.
It's difficult to imagine that one day he will be more than half my size. At the resort pool this week I weighed in at 116. It's been many decades ago since I've had a larger breed; for 20 years I've been a Brittany girl. But I've done Labs so I can do Aussies.
Skye is Type-A like me: If I don't keep his mind and body stimulated he gets restless and bored. I get him. He has 25 toys but it doesn't seem to be enough. A treadmill is waiting for him (more months until his body develops), and an obstacle course in the dog run are on my To-Do list. Long walks with my Brittany are keeping us all lean and happy. And, of course, there is Zen, my Siamese-mix cat.
Kitty is dog-savvy. He now walks in s-l-o-w motion to avoid being herded day and night. But Skyler has won the cat; affection with politics--he licks his ears and head at night and passionately embraces him with his over-sized Saint Bernard-type paws.
So, did we get through the pesky puppy stage? Uh, for the most part. These days, I get six-seven hours of sleep. The dog box is only used when I go swimming/store... He's learning multiple commands and getting more of a free run throughout my home. He can spell relax and puppy. In fact, he sleeps as I write this blog post.
Thank you Skyler. You are helping me to heal a broken heart from November 23, when I lost my Brittany 2, Sethie. He would have loved you...You have brought light and energy back into our lives. And you're growing up to be a handsome boy. You, my working canine friend, have done your job. Good dog!